Trust My Heart
by Angel Wings Rinoa Cathy-chan
Summary: Quistis x Original Character, Bradley: a romance story that transformed into something much more! Ch. 12: Squall begins to uncover the mystery of the "Grandon Massacre," and finds a kindred spirit in a little boy....Please R&R!
1. A Lady

Trust My Heart**_  
_**by: Cathy-chan  
  
*This is an old fanfic I've been working on for a quite a long time; and it's still not done merely 'cause I can't get my juices going on finishing it. But I can tell you right away that this'll be a long fanfic. And it's a Quistis fanfic. I've noticed there's a lot of fics that focus on the angst side of Quistis, so this is a positive take on a wonderful and brilliant lady. This is also not a Quifer. Hope you like it. I posted it here just to know what people think. So please read & review. Any comments are welcomed as long as they're constructive and not a flame. Enjoy the fic!  
**  
**Chapter 1: A Lady  
  
She squinted her round, blue eyes, trying her best to focus them on the computerized text. She scowled at the reflection of herself on the computer screen; she hadn't realized she had been working on The SeeD Standard Report from eve to dusk until now. She remembered a concerned comment someone once said to her: _M'girl, you certainly work too hard._  
"I couldn't agree with you more, Dr. Kadowaki. Don't you think so too?" she whispered to the reflection in the screen. She spread her slender arms and long legs to stretch the protesting, tired muscles within them. Her bottom eyelids, she noticed, were starting to become dark and baggy. She unhooked her reading glasses from the ridge of her nose and stared at it blankly on her hand. For some odd reason or other while staring at the functional eye-wear, she found herself contemplating her way of life.   
She never thought of herself as anyone who caused too much trouble, as a matter of fact, she fixed many of them (but she would never openly admit it.) During her mid-teens, she utilized almost all of her mind and body to its limits, striving for one single outcome: a real, respected SeeD. Her ambitious goals didn't make her greedy or selfish, though; on the contrary she earned her rank with honour and pride. A very kind, loving woman was the usual description for her she knew. Her thoughts and opinions about herself and what other people thought of her were always positive; perfectly balanced with her realist side, neither contorting the truth nor denying them. Though, at mornings like this one, she couldn't help but brood on the darker viewpointsr. Did they thought she was too cautious? Too, as they say, buttoned down? Was "very kind and loving" accompanied by "meticulous and bossy" behind her back?  
Her hand followed the contours of her eyeglasses. The cold, smooth, metallic surface felt impersonal on her fingertips and palm. The first words that came into her mind while she touched it were organized, simplistic, symmetrical..... not the least bit chaotic, fancy, or flamboyant. _Like me_, she thought. _Had she forgotten what it felt like to be a teenager?_ Merely two years away from a score of years, but why did the age of eighteen seemed to contradict how she felt. As if an wizened adult was inside a youth's body. _Of course,_ she reasoned rationally, _it could be just my imagination. I'm as eighteen as I can be_. So..... Why was it bothering her? She saved the data on the screen, and shut the computer off. _Might as well stop by the cafeteria for some coffee since it's already morning_, she thought after a long yawn.  
Balamb Garden greeted Quistis with the typical, early-morning frenzy. The cafeteria was crowded with the same people at an exact time, just around eight o'clock. The Trepies discussed juicy gossips. Zell asked -more like pleaded- for any hotdogs that survived the mob. The cheerful cashier girl noticed Quistis approaching, happily welcoming her with a gleeful smile. "So, what'll it be, instructor?" she asked in her high-pitched, girlish voice.  
"Oh, you don't have to call me instructor. I'm just a SeeD now, and the usual dark coffee, please."  
"Right away, ma'am!" she turned to the other attendants and said, "Quistis's Usual: ASAP!" After her morning coffee was brewed, she sat herself at the single-seated table near the window.   
She was startled by Zell, his face suddenly appearing with an easy-going grin behind her. "What's with all the ma'am stuff, Quistis? You should say something each and every time she calls ya that!"   
"The what? Oh. There's nothing wrong with it," she said politely to the over-grinning Zell.   
"Eh, I guess not. When you're like old 'nuff to be my mum or something." When he saw Quistis looking surprised or a little vexed, he waved his hands in front of him saying, "Oh...ah....just kiddin', Quis!! Just some very strange humour o'mine!" Zell showed her his trademark, sheepish but charming smile.   
"That's all right. You did nothing wrong."  
"Ah, I guess not.....Er.....Say! Us guys were thinkin' if we could visit Dollet some time. Not for any particular reason, but we guys thought we need a little break. Y'know, a little vacation for us hard working SeeDs and Balamb Garden students."  
"A break? Sounds very nice! Which 'guys' are you talking about?"  
"Me, Selphie, Irvine, Rinoa, even Xu and Nida. We tried to convince Squall too about the idea, but all he said was," Zell cleared his voice and made his best Squall the Leader frown. " 'A break, huh? Whatever. Don't ask me about it. Ask Quistis or something.' he said. Then I said, 'But, Squall, you're the commander. You call the shots here.' Then he said, with his usual stupid tone, '...Is that all? Then, like I said, ask Quistis.' Man! The guy doesn't take a hint sometimes!"  
Quistis laughed. "That sounds like the Squall I know. Well, the 'commander' said to ask me, and so you did. Of course we can go."  
"Oh yeah!! I knew you'd say yes! Listen, there's this famous spot near Dollet where there's this cool beach, see? It's this long stretch of sand called Lapin Beach. We're gonna see if we could get Squall, the TightaaaaiiI mean, the Leader, to wear a swimsuit and go with us. That'll be a challenge!"  
"Of course, Rinoa will answer to that challenge."  
"Course I was thinkin' that too." Zell grinned an even wider grin. "And knowing her schemes, I'm sure she'll live up to that challenge. Well thanks, Quistis! We're sailin' to Dollet right away!"  
  
_To be continued..._


	2. Lovers' Day

Trust My Heart  
by: Cathy-chan  
  
~~~~~~~~  
Chapter 2: Lovers' Day  
  
It was a cloudless, humid day when Balamb Garden landed on the shores of Dollet. Its inhabitants were soft-spoken and glad; a stark contrast to the explosions and yelling during their unforgettable SeeD Test. The only type of noises that remained were music coming from the different joyous bars and restaurants, and the laughter of playing children. The Juniors especially wanted to howl with mirth at finding themselves on a beach on a perfect day. But no other announcements thrilled them more than hearing their Commander Squall said, "You can go and do anything you want, as long as you're in Dollet and abiding its laws. We are to assemble on this location by sunset, understand?"  
Even the older students couldn't resist giggling or starting off on their fun while answering a "Yessir!" The lucky SeeDs who weren't on call for a mission had the same instructions as the students. Surprisingly, a few of them had started a huge torrent of hooting and howling after Squall spoke. Showing all of Balamb Garden and Dollet that a vacation was one luxury they hadn't experienced.  
Quistis smiled as she saw students and SeeDs alike jump and play on the sand. T_hey really deserve it_, she thought._ Everyone worked so hard this year_. Stepping out into the bright glare of the sun, her eyes adjusted to the noon's brilliant prelude. The sun was too hot for her leather gloves and regular clothing. Thus, for their day of relaxing and tanning, she chose to wear a spaghetti-strap sun-dress that beautifully adorned her tall, slim figure.  
"Wow! Sure is hotter than usual today, eh?" Irvine tucked his hat more into his head, admiring the scent and view of the sea surrounding them. "...Reminds me of our days in the orphanage with nothing to do but watch the waves roll onto the sand."  
"Yah, I know! Hey, that reminds me. Can we go to the beach now!? I wanna try out my new swimsuit!" Selphie tugged on Irvine's coat and winked. He in turn, winked and responded with a salute of his Stetson.  
Zell stared at the two for a moment, then said, "Not yet! There's plenty of time for some surfin' and..." He wrinkled his nose and waved a hand. "...all yer lovie-dovies stuff. I'm starving! Lets find some grub first."  
"Good idea! I know a great place to eat here! Caraway took me and my mother here during his business trips. C'mon, everybody!" Rinoa encouraged her friends to hurry and follow her. She led them to a cheery restaurant emblazoned with vibrant colours and country-side ornaments. Apparently Rinoa came to the restaurant often. The owner/chef of the restaurant, the waiters and waitresses, even some of the customers knew or recognized her. It was a very busy day for the small establishment. It was packed with people; six people crammed in a table for three. But the owner managed to find a special spot beside the window for Rinoa and her friends.   
"Hey, Rinoa Heartilly, is it? I haven't seen you in ages. My, my, my! You have certainly become taller after all these years. And what a beautiful young lady you have become too!" The plump, happy chef said to Rinoa.  
"And you certainly have aged beautifully, Piere!"  
"I used to remember when you and your folks would go here to eat your usual food. I bet you sing as well as your mother!"  
"...Oh...not really! I never tried. I'm sure I'm terrible at it."  
"Pooh! Nonsense! Why I bet..."   
While Rinoa's conversation with the kindly chef carried on, Quistis caught a glimpse of a young man not far from where she sat. Perhaps it was her lack of meeting many men--she was a busy, responsible SeeD after all-- but she found him to be handsome. Extraordinarily so. He was tall and lean; she speculated he must be almost six feet tall. Even if his age ranged from eighteen to twenty-one, his strong, defined features made him look half a dozen years older. But that didn't make him look uninteresting, on the contrary his older appearance gave an air of elegance, implying subtlety and wisdom. His eyes, which captivated her, were no doubt green, yet blue; the colour of the sea in a dark storm. He had hair the colour of a setting sun, hinted by dark chestnut at some strands; long bangs covering almost all of his right eye. He seemed to be physically a hard worker. His shoulders and torso were broad with arms that often did physical, arduous work. He was wearing a plain shirt, jeans, gloves and heavy boots. Quistis was certain he did labour work by the dirt and oil on his attire. By his side, leaning against the wall, was a pretty woman. Over the many conversations floating in the room, she didn't hear what he said that made the woman laugh. _She must be his lover or something_. For reasons she could not grasp, she felt disappointed at the thought. How unfamiliar it was, the unnamed trouble in her heart. She was not a woman prone to petty emotions of envy and jealousy. So what brought her spirits down suddenly? Quistis' view was obscured by a horde of people passing by. A moment later, she lost hope of seeing the enthralling man. She hid a secret, coy smile and a blush with her hands, then exhaled a long sigh. It was fun shamelessly ogling a man for a while.  
A waitress handed them their menus after Rinoa's friendly chat with the chef.  
"Great! The menu! Hey, Rinoa, what's really tasty here?"  
"All of them of course, but I like to order the sweet 'n' sour beef with homemade style potatoes. That one." Rinoa pointed at it from Zell's menu.  
"Ah, I remember you used to order chocolate ice cream with chocolate syrup on it," Piere said with a cheeky, jolly chuckle.  
She giggled and said, "Yup! You got it, Piere! I can't resist chocolate, y'know!"  
"Hehehe...You should remember that fact, Squall! Might be important for future reference. Chocolate does have this chemical that enhances 'you know what.'" Irvine playfully nudged Squall.  
"Ah, is he your, as we say in French, l'amore, Rinoa?" Piere asked, teasingly.  
"Whu--? My--! M-Maybe....I dunno." Rinoa said at the same time with Squall's dismissive "...Whatever."  
They laughed good-naturedly at Rinoa and Squall turning red from embarrassment. Their lunches were accompanied by jokes and laughter. Everyone enjoyed the company and food. They could tell Zell enjoyed it most of all because he had three, enthusiastic helpings. Before everyone left the restaurant Zell and Rinoa waved goodbye to the friendly chef and his employers.  
"Mmmm, that was deelicious!" Zell punched air in front of him energetically. "I'm stuffed! Now what do you guys say to going to that beach!?"  
"Woo-hoo! The beach! Okay!!" Selphie jumped up and down.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
It was still fairly sunny by mid-afternoon. The sun hid behind a few, soft clouds below humid, bright shores. Similar to the restaurant, the beach was also bustling, but still had room for more people to enjoy the scenery and waters. Little children waded in the shallow areas while adults were either resting on the soft sands or surfing on the strong waves. Zell hurriedly changed into his swimming boxers, and charged into the waves with his surfing board. On the shore, Selphie was putting sun tan lotion on Irvine's back while Rinoa slowly dragged Squall close to the waters. Quistis prepared the umbrella, blanket and radio. Afterwards, she decided to simply enjoy the heat of the ground on her belly. Her blue eyes brightened with a soft giggle as she surreptitiously watched her comrades' schemes and frolic with equal observation and amusement.  
"Surfs up, dudes!" Zell dived into the water with his surfing board. He found a good, big tidle wave and slowly stood on his board screaming, "Waaahooo! Yeah, baby!! Whoops! Oh noooo!" Zell's voice disappeared into the splashing waters. His feet and surfing board shooting up into the air.  
"Are you gonna swim with that hat? Why don't you take it off too?" Selphie asked Irvine as she finished rubbing lotion on his back.  
"Are you kidding?! Irvine Kinneas doesn't remove his hat for swimming." Irvine shoved his favourite cowboy hat snugly down his dome. A charming, diabolic smile came upon his lips. "I much rather stay here with you. We could hide behind my charmin' hat and show you a thing or two when it comes to..." His voice trailed into a whisper at Selphie's lips. She returned him a playful shove, cheeks warm with a blush. Her small display of modesty had Irvine laughing and snuggling beside her. He placed his brown, stylish hat unto her head, grinning madly as Selphie impressed how adoring, but tough-as-nails cowboy chick she looked with his "charming" hat.  
Meanwhile, Rinoa was still pushing Squall closer to the water. "Come here, Squall-darlin'! There's something I want to show you," she said in a musical voice.  
".....Darlin'?" Squall's brow arched, frown firmly in position. He looked vexed, yet also puzzled. "That's a stupid name."  
"No, it's not! What else should I call you besides Squall? It sounds kind of cute. Not unless you want me to give you another pet name. Sweetheart, Squall-chan, Squally, Honey, Lovey,......" Rinoa went on and on with her list of names for Squall. She knew exactly how horrid those name sound, but with her love so fixedly scowling at her, she couldn't resist.  
Squall was becoming impatient with Rinoa's silly games. He knew all along Rinoa had plot to tease and provoke him. Every step Rinoa succeeded in drawing him closer to the water, his brows knitted tighter: she had not only a plan in mind, but a goal too. Yet what would she achieve in getting him wet, he wondered? "Are you done yet? What were you going to show me?"  
He would know soon enough. Without saying a word, she circled behind him, and shoved him bodily into the water, soaking him thoroughly from the toes in his boots to the long, brown hair on his head. Everyone had a good laughter from Rinoa's prank. The Garden's students especially who saw it chortled themselves to insanity at poor, soaked Commander. Annoyance was written all over his face at what Rinoa had done.  
"Sorry, Squall. It must be really hot in there so I thought you might need to cool down with some water," she voiced as innocently as an angel.  
"Actually, it was fine. I am very comfortable with my clothes." he said sternly with a knowing hint in his blue eyes. So that's what she wanted, he hid a smile behind his lanky, dripping hair. "I'm not that soaked. It'll dry off soon anyway." He started getting up, but Rinoa stopped him with a lift of an index finger.  
"Yes you are. Very much soaked. And you're not getting away. You could at least take off that heavy jacket and those gloves of yours. Please? For me?" she pretended to plead. It was such a poor imitation of sad, puppy-dog eyes that he nearly chuckled.  
"No. Make me, if you can," he uttered simply, almost threateningly.  
"All right I will! And I sure can! Come here!!" Since she was already in her swimsuit, she dived on him, and playfully wrestled him for his jacket. "If you don't take those off now, I swear: I'm going to scream! Loudly!! Or worst yet, I'll sing 'Row Row Row Your Boat'!! I'm warning you, you don't want to hear me sing that song." Rinoa grabbed Squall's jacket, trying to yank it down. He fought back with turning her over to the water. While he was trying pin her down, she finally managed to get one sleeve off.  
He knew then he lost the bout against her. Squall sighed, grudgingly admitting defeat. "Fine. I'm taking it off. Get off of me."  
She screeched triumphantly, her fingers dancing on his jacket. "The belts, your shoes, the shirt and the necklace too!?" she asked eagerly.  
He hesitated. "Yes. But you have to get off first."  
"Will do!" she got up quickly. Her fingers toyed nonchalantly on her hair while her eyes did a full scan of his drenched body. "Do you need any help?"  
"I can do this myself." He turned around and quickly took off everything except his leather pants. On his back, he felt Rinoa's brown eyes become larger. "Satisfied now?"  
"Oh yes! Very much. Although it's going to be very hard for you to swim in leather. Oooh, you look so nice.....so sexy! I've never seen you without your jacket before!" Her gaze lingered longer on the two belts around his hips. "Umm, what do you have under those pants?"   
The female students on the beach agreed he looked good too, they stared at him foolishly. For fun, Selphie leered, screaming, "Oooh, baby! You're a hottie! Woo woo! Work it, Sexy!" Selphie didn't stopped waving her arms around, and hooting until Squall shot her a menacing glare. She abruptly stopped and started a rush of giggles with Irvine.  
Lovers. It was the first word that came into Quistis' mind while she watched them. Rinoa's right. _That is the first time we've ever seen him half naked_. The games were not over yet. Evidently, Rinoa wanted more than Squall's shirt and jacket. They started a dramatic debate all over again. Quistis heard a lot of "I'm not going to swim." from him, and "Yes you are!" from her.  
While the argument was still in progress, Quistis brought her attention to the beautiful scenery. Other couples were on the beach besides the two, motley pairs. They were scattered on the beach, holding hands, talking or kissing; some so far and passionately beyond kissing she abruptly looked away, turning redder than her flower-patterned dress. Quistis thought that they all looked very happy and worry-free. She sat there quietly for a while in rapture of the scenery, until she heard someone's footsteps behind her.  
"Couldn't help seein' ya here all alone, milady." Quistis heard from behind her. The voice was deep and friendly with an unusual accent. She turned around to face the owner of the male voice, then temporarily lost her ability to speak. _It can't be him_, the thought came even as the man's bold, green eyes were directly before hers. "Hi there. I've seen you before. The restaurant, right?" he asked her politely.  
Quistis managed to untie her tongue after a second. "....Y-yes, that's right. I've seen you before too. You were leaning on the wall with a woman. Mr...." She prompted cordially for a name, all the while her mind continued: _Nice, Trepe, you've just admitted gawking at his body recently_.  
"I'm Bradley. Bradley Greynard Atkins. My chums call me Brad."  
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Atkins. My name is Quistis Trepe."  
"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Trepe." He formally bowed in front of her. His grin reached deepening a dimple on his left cheek. "So are those your very active friends over there?" He gestured to four frolicking teenagers gathered around Squall. It seemed that "Operation: Get Ol' Cap'n Swimming" was still active. Zell, Irvine and Selphie joined in Rinoa's childish game.  
Zell was the loudest of them all. His booming voice spanned the shore. She heard him wail, "Don't tell me you're afraid of water, Squall?"   
"No. If I don't feel like swimming, I won't. Plain and simple." It was surprising to hear Squall's voice close to a shout.  
"Well, you can't have everything, Rinoa. At least you got Squall's shirt off. Now that's an improvement!" Selphie yelled at the top of her lungs, as if she was declaring victory in a war. She intentionally made it twice as loud to make everyone in the beach hear the phrase, 'Squall's shirt off.' Rinoa laughed happily and hugged Squall's soaked arm. He, however, wasn't so pleasant. After a few minutes of jolly laughter, Quistis turned to the man beside her to answer.   
"Yes, as a matter of fact, those are my friends. Usually they're not that active, but I guess they're really having fun with Squall today."  
Relaxed humour showed in his smile and voice as he said, "Squall? You mean that poor young man they're teasing?" He took a glance at the scowling, young man.  
"That's right. He's usually a very quiet student--I mean person. He likes to be alone and do very well in his studies."  
He chuckled softly. "I bet that started to change when he got that girlfriend over there." He directed his gesture to Rinoa.  
"How did you know they were together?"  
"Looks like it. I saw her push the poor guy to the water. They really love each other, though."  
"Really? Is it that obvious?"  
"Sure. He surely doesn't agree to anything easily. But, he wanted her to be happy, so he let her have her way."  
"Ah, I never thought of it that way. I thought Rinoa's constant hammering finally caved Squall in."  
"A guy like that? Cave in? I'm sure hardly, maybe never. He looks strong willed and dedicated to whatever he sets his mind to."  
"You're a very good judge of character, aren't you?"  
"Of course! I always think so. That's why I think a beautiful, young lady such as yourself doesn't want to be just watching. Would you like to go for some coffee? My treat." Bradley's huge grin made Quistis smile back.  
She knew he was flattering her immodestly; she imagined he was a known flirt in this town. Faintly in her mind, she knew of the precautions she usually took when it came to men such as Bradley. In light of her recent musings on life, she chose to ignore the faint warning by smiling and saying, "I have a better idea, lets have dinner together."  
"Fantastic! Sounds like a date to me! Shall we, mademoiselle?" Bradley kindly and gracefully handed his hand to her. Quistis took it without hesitation; his callous palm touching her delicate, soft hand. Proving her earlier hypothesis of him as a physical labourer. It also revealed that he used his hands often. She was aware of what Squall and the others might speculate if she wandered into the streets with a stranger. Yet she felt relaxed, amazingly not bothered by her spontaneous decision.  
No scenery could've been more perfect for a slow walk in Dollet. The suns descending rays gradually tainted the sky with streaks of different oranges. The mountains in the background and the classic, vintage houses coming together as one in a bright, surreal monochrome. Somewhere close by, a melody played lazily from a variety of instruments. Quistis let the sound of the faint music release her tension. She closed her eyes, smelling the scent of a summer, sea breeze. The wind swept her long, strawberry blonde hair; both wind and sunlight playing with its tresses. Then in that exact moment, the thoughts about her job fleeted, and fantasies began to resurface. What was in her dreams long ago, before her career took over? She recalled of a dream of a cottage surrounded by flowers near the ocean...a companion beside her...a family...Abruptly Quistis realized she had been daydreaming. A cottage, a man and a family? She couldn't conceive how the topic could nonchalantly usurp her mind. Perhaps, it was because of the moment, or even perhaps this man....._That's ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous!_ she chided herself. She didn't realized how long her mind had been away, until she saw their destination. "This is the place." she said to Bradley.  
"Well, what are we waiting for? Ladies first, of course." He opened the door, and gestured for her to enter first.  
"Thank you." Her bright smile was genuine when she accepted his courtesy. She was surprised, too, to be dating a gentleman. Opening a door for a woman, she thought, was long forgotten at their day and age.  
The restaurant was quaint and pleasant. Little patterns of roses are painted throughout a long wall full of murals. A vase of daisies are set in each table. As they sat at their seats to wait for their order, Quistis decided to know more about her date.  
"So, Bradley. What do you do for a living?"  
"I fix machines and autos most of the time, but sometimes, also a bit of paleontology. Just to explore the world when I need to."  
Quistis wasn't sure which amazed her more: his exotic occupation or his casual demeanor when he spoke of it. "Interesting," she said sincerely.  
"So how about you?"  
"I'm a SeeD from Balamb Garden. I used to be an instructor, but then I got demoted."  
"Oh, no wonder ya called Squall a student! I used to be a SeeD too, but then military ain't my thing. I'm more into seeing the world and researching long extinct GFs. Did you know there are most unidentified species of Guardian Forces than what most people know of? The vastness of their species is simply.....amazing!"  
Quistis listened to Bradley as one story or fact concluded into another. She was beguiled. A long history of Guardian Forces and the planet's geographical evolution would normally bore a person to sleep. Yet his passion for the subject left her hanging on every word. Even the very extensive lists of extinct GFs she listened to. He told about eerie, strange, funny, ridiculous stories he could remember from his far, tough journeys. Bradley stopped abruptly, a sheepish look forming on his face. "Woah! Sorry, I guess I've been yapping to much, huh?"  
"Oh no, not at all. Those were incredible stories!"  
"But I can't learn anything about you if I keep yappin'."  
"I'm sure you wouldn't want to hear about me." She shrugged and made a dismissive gesture. "Nothing much to talk about."  
"Nothing? Hell, there must be plenty!" He leaned closer to her. "Tell me your experiences with being a SeeD or an instructor. Tell me about your students and friends. Where and when were you born? What's your favourite colour? What's your hobby? What's your favourite genre of music?"  
Quistis laughed from being overwhelmed. "That's a lot of questions all at once, don't you think?"  
He laughed softly. "I didn't expect for you to answer all of them at once. They're just some we can start with. You're an interesting person, Quistis. I'd like to talk to you more, if that's okay with you, that is."  
_....An interesting person? _Now she was truly overwhelmed. Their conversation had her doubtless of his intelligence. His deportment was mature and calm, yet humour and boyish candor always lit his eyes. Her interest for him increased at his every action and words. Moreover, his boldness thrilled her. Other young men had tried courting her before. A member of The Trepies was infatuated by her; a few students couldn't help stuttering while they asked about her weekend plans. Though, most of them were intimidated by her. Even as a SeeD, she was known as a tough, no-nonsense leader. Nevertheless, Bradley was unperturbed. _I should be worried that someone is taking so much interest in me. Or no, I should be more concerned about falling for his charms_, she counseled herself. Spontaneity was not her strongest trait, she was mostly careful about a lot of things. She had often said Squall was predictable, even when she thought the same of herself. Now even her anti-social, favourite ex-student was changing. It was time for her to change as well.....  
"I'd like that. I'm due at Balamb Garden before 9 o'clock. Would you like to visit the facility? I can give you a tour, if you want."  
"I'd be honoured by that, Quistis."  
The day's festivities had been unexpected and different. A mysterious man out of nowhere talking to her, treasuring her company. And she in return, accepted his company for a while longer. Not a trace of corrupt intentions were implied from him, yet she sensed she was taking a risk. A thrill raced through her body; it had nothing to do with nervousness.  
  
_To be continued..._


	3. Many Meetings

Trust My Heart  
by: Cathy-chan  
  
Chapter 3: Many Meetings  
  
"It's time to return to Balamb Garden. Everyone, pack up and leave," Squall instructed with a clear voice.  
"Aye aye, Cap'n Leonhart!" Rinoa, Zell, Selphie and Irvine cheerfully said in unison with a navy salute.  
Squall raised a brow, a response to their over-ecstatic reply. He would have given a stronger reaction, but doing so would prove them victorious. They wanted a reaction from him; after much experience with the four, energetic SeeDs he had a strategy for them. Thus he kept silent while dressing back to his usual, stiff outfit. Behind his back Rinoa and Selphie whispered. He heard a small, protesting sound from Rinoa when he started putting his shirt and jacket back on; one of the few advantages he had for succumbing into her schemes. Until due time would the incident at least be left to just memories. The worst of his dread would be finding this embarrassing incident in the front page of Selphie's B.Garden Newsletter. Gratefully he had other things to worry about such as his tasks. As the efficient leader, he marked the whereabouts of all his crew. The students were already assembled into the Garden by their instructors. Every leading SeeD save one were waiting beside him.  
"Have you seen Quistis?" he directed the question to Rinoa.  
"No. Last I saw her she was talking to a guy."  
"Woah, an' here I thought she was right behind us. Quistis just went somewhere without telling us?" Zell asked looking puzzled. "Doesn't sound like what she would do."  
"She shouldn't keep the Garden waiting. I'm going to go look for her. I need someone to take charge while I'm gone." Squall could see Zell jumping up and down in front of him. He would be more than pleased to be a temporary leader. With a shrug and a sigh he said, "Fine. Zell is going to take care of everything. I'll be back soon." Without waiting for a response, he started heading for the streets.  
"Thanks, Squall! You won't be disappointed," he shouted to Squall from a distance.  
"You're lucky he's in a hurry, else he would have never appointed you as leader," Rinoa said teasingly.  
"Yah, I know, but who cares? I'm leader! All right, people! Pack up!" Zell grinned cheerfully as he bossed people around.  
  
~~~~~~   
  
Quistis and Bradley were slowly strolling down the avenue, in no hurry to get to the Garden. They wee caught in a heated yet playful debate about life goals, she noticed neither the curfew nor Squall scowling behind them as Bradley concluded his reasoning. "....and that's how I realize that my main wish in this life is to see Griever and every, single GF! So really, there are a lot of things to do in this world. I'm plannin' to see everything."  
"Wow! I know how some people want to see the world, but they're not as ambitious as you."  
"Hey, everybody's got goals or purposes. Care to tell me about your goals?"  
She shook her head. "I don't think I can. You'd laugh at me if I tell you."  
"I won't. I promise." His vow did little merit to convince Quistis for he was widely grinning from cheek to cheek.  
"No. You'll just have to guess 'cause I'm not telling." Her stern and serious face had Bradley laughing for a whole minute.   
After his composure returned Quistis thought to know more of his past career. "You must have been a good leader as a SeeD with all the enthusiasm you have. You haven't told me which Garden you graduated from."  
"Oh ah,....hey, it's that soaked guy from before!" Bradley pointed to the young man striding towards them.  
"Quistis, it's time to go. It's past the curfew time," Squall said. Easily omitting 'soaked guy' comment without pause.  
"Oh, you're right! I'm sorry, Squall. I seem to have lost track of time," Quistis apologized after looking at her watch. She was astonished to know it was one hour pass the designated time.  
Bradley stepped forward. "You can blame that on me, Squall. I should've known it's getting late."  
_He knows my name, what has Quistis been telling this freak? _Squall thought. "...Whatever. Balamb Garden is going to go any minute. Lets go." Squall bumped the other man's shoulder, intentionally. He made it clear he disclaimed Bradley's existence, at least for the moment. _Something in my gut's telling me something about him. Why does his face ring a bell? And does Quistis really know this guy? _Squall wasn't sure if it was paranoia or instincts telling him of danger. The ominous sensation was aggravating, and he wasn't about to let it pass unnoticed.  
"Er....he's rather cold shouldered, isn't he?" Bradley said after Squall quickly left earshot. He was about to add: I wonder what's up his ass? but decided to leave the forthright comment to himself.  
Quistis bowed apologetically. "You'll have to excuse Squall. He's always like that."  
"Always!?" He let out a long whistle. "No need to apologize. It's nothing. I'm completely not offended. He's an okay guy. Needs an attitude adjustment, but okay." Bradley grinned and shook his head. "Though if I didn't know any better, I would've sworn he's older than me!"   
Quistis agreed with him by laughing. "Lets go before Mr. Cold-Shouldered gets angry. Trust me, you don't want to see his bad side."  
"That was his good side!?" he exclaimed.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Rinoa hummed tunelessly in front of Squall's dormitory, waiting patiently for someone to respond on the other side. She knocked twice on the door until Squall finally welcomed her in. He returned to his desk, reverting his attention back to writing a long-winded report due the next day. As the commander of the Garden, he had to make sure that written reports (and apologies) to other Gardens, governments and cities were completed and signed by him.  
"Knock, knock! Anybody home?" she said in a cheerful singsong. "Earth to Mr. Meany? You there?"  
"You can see me, right?"  
"Wow, I don't believe it!" Rinoa gasped, pretending to be shocked. "Squall Leonhart actually has a sense of humour!"  
"That wasn't suppose to be funny."  
"Oh, I'm just kidding! Why do I even bother with you?"  
"I don't know."  
Rinoa placed her hand on her forehead, shaking her head vehemently as she said, "If you weren't so cute, maybe I wouldn't have put up with you." She giggled shortly, then with a sashay of her hips, casually strode to his direction. "Anyway, what'cha doin'?"  
"I'm finishing the report for Balamb Garden."  
"You don't need to do that now. Aren't you hungry? Wanna eat something at the cafeteria? I'm in the mood for a really tasty dessert."  
"I'll be finished in a while."  
"Yeah right! I've heard that before and I'm never gonna fall for it."  
"Not now, Rinoa. Later."  
"No! Now! Don't you wanna meet Quistis' new friend?"  
Quistis' new friend? Squall depicted a tall man who Quistis was avidly having a conversation with in Dollet. A particular person he was keen not to like.  
Slowly, he stood up from his chair. After pacing several steps, he stopped quietly in front of her. He knew of only one friend of Quistis he hadn't met. But just to make sure he asked, "What does Quistis' friend look like?"  
"Uh....Goldish-brown hair, green eyes, tall, post-teens....very handsome! I think his name is Bradley."  
"You mean she invited that stranger into Balamb Garden?" Squall neither raised or changed his tone of voice, but Rinoa was one of the few who could truly discern him. By the looks of it, he was not pleased by the idea.  
Although she knew it unsettled him, she approached it as a joke to lighten his mood. "Hey, don't get jealous, Squall. I said he's handsome but I still think you're the greatest guy."   
Squall simply mumbled something to himself and went back to his work.   
"Look, I know you're not very happy with it, but get used to it."  
"Get use to it? No."  
"Why not? He's not gonna do any harm."  
"Right. As far as we're concerned, he might be a criminal or a killer," he uttered dryly without shifting his eyes from the screen.  
"What?! Is that how you think of people you've hardly met?"  
"No, this particular one is suspicious."  
"Because he and Quistis have a strong connection?"  
"It has nothing to do with that." He paused for one second; behind his collected, calm mien he searched for the adequate words. "He...looks familiar. I have this feeling I should recognize his face."   
She stood there for a moment just staring into Squall's eyes. After a few moments of silence, he faced the computer once again.  
"Squall," Rinoa stood behind him, "just tell me what's wrong. I personally don't know Quistis as long as you have, but I can tell she likes him." She spoke slowly and softly while she stroked his hair. "I don't know...to me, she seems to be laughing more, and she's at ease too. I think you should give him a chance. Not for him, but for Quistis. If she thinks he's nice, then maybe he's not such a bad person."  
"...Maybe." He turned his seat around to face Rinoa. "Fine, but it doesn't mean I'm abandoning my theory about him."  
Rinoa smiled and embraced him. "Thank you, Squall. You're just worried, that's all. You'll see that he's decent." Rinoa felt the tension depart in their embrace.  
".....Rinoa. Thank you. I hope you're right."  
"'Course I'm right!" Her brown eyes lit up with a wink, happily she pulled him up from his seat. "You can thank me better by treating me to dessert."  
  
In the cafeteria, Zell and Irvine were becoming well acquainted with Bradley. He, of course, fitted in with their flamboyant lot without any effort, having much in common with their sense of humour. Within less than five minutes, quick subjects, silly jokes and jesting punches were thrown in the midst of a fast soaring friendship between the two SeeDs and Quistis' visiting friend. Selphie and Quistis watched in amazement while one discussion quickly altered into another.  
"So like.....have you seen the latest issue of the "Girl Next Door"? Man! There was this hot chick there!" Irvine commented.  
Behind them, they heard Selphie gasp and yell, "Irvine!"  
"Yeah, I saw it myself, Irv! The October issue, right? Total babes there! I can let you borrow mine if you want. Those mags are pretty rare these days."   
It was Quistis' sharp intake of air they heard next. "Bradley! He's only seventeen."  
Irvine grunted and scrunched his face.  
Bradley chuckled and raised a brow. "So? He's old enough for that, ain't he?"  
"Hey, thanks, Rad!" Irvine slapped him on the back.  
Bradley coughed after the hard smack. "No prob! Hey, Zell! You're a great martial artist! I knew a few friends that studied it, but not even close to how much you've accomplished."  
"Really?!" Zell was abashed as he laughed and scratched his head. "Well...it was my favourite hobby as a kid. Still is too. I figure I might as well learn somethin' awesome and useful." He began a series of punching and kicking techniques. While he did his famous acrobatics, Squall and Rinoa entered the room from far side. Typically, Rinoa was hugging Squall's arm, unmindful of his silence while she kept talking. As the couple came closer, Bradley immediately detected hostility in the other man's scrutiny; Squall didn't even bothered hiding it. His cold, inert gaze told Bradley his credence was not as easily gained as his comrades'. Nevertheless, Bradley met his eyes with the same intensity; turquoise fixedly answering sapphire. The glower went unbroken in arm's reach as the couple joined the group.  
Rinoa intentionally stepped in front of Squall to break the 'glaring contest.' She smiled kindly and said, "Hello! You must be Bradley, right? I'm Rinoa Heartilly." She gave the man behind her a persuasive nudge that said: _C'mon, stupid! Say 'hi'!_  
"Squall Leonhart," he declared monotonously.  
"Bradley Atkins," the answer came, mimicking the methodical voice. He took his eyes off Squall for a moment to Rinoa. Instantly, the icy jade became warm. "Nice to meet you, Rinoa. I saw your prank on your boyfriend on the beach. Lucky for him to have a gal like you to cool him off."   
Rinoa laughed and blushed. "Oh, he needed to chill very badly."  
Inevitably, the vicious glaring returned once Bradley's attention strayed to the man around Rinoa's arms. It did not waver, neither would accept defeat by shifting their eyes away.   
Selphie finally broke the reticence after one full minute. Softly, she commented, "Uh-oh! There's some tense air in here!"  
"Anyway! I guess me and Squall here'll be going! He owes me dessert." Rinoa towed Squall forcefully aside before the merciless perusal became physical. With him tightly around her arms, she and her scolding voice trailed off across the cafeteria.   
"Hmm....cheery young fella," Bradley muttered under his breath.  
"That's funny...wonder what's making him so bothered about you," Zell said, scratching his chin in puzzlement.  
"What makes you think that was unusual? Maybe that's how he treats strangers," Irvine said  
"No, he didn't act that way to us when we met him. He was cold, yeah, but not that cold!" Selphie blurted out.  
Bradley shrugged. "It's not a big deal that one of you dislikes me."  
"He takes a while to persuade." Quistis changed the subject by smiling and asking, "Would you like that tour of Balamb Garden I suggested to you?"  
"Sure!" He offered his arm to Quistis.  
She entwined her arm on his without reluctance. Later on she would be shocked at herself for being at ease with a man she barely knew. It was a bit disconcerting, her ease. Given reliable Squall's reaction to Bradley, she should be wary of her own conduct. Yet what 'should be' was not there at all. To Quistis, it felt as if she was reuniting with an old friend, one who understood her very well. Although, as they progressed arm-in-arm through each area of the Garden, she felt the presence of something deeper than camaraderie.  
  
_To be continued..._


	4. Enigmas

Trust My Heart  
by: Cathy-chan  
  
Chapter 4: Enigmas  
  
The sky had darkened. Midnight. Faraway stars showered their beauty from a velvety blue heaven. Quistis smiled softly at where their tour of the Garden had ended: the aft of the ship. On the military's tough warfare, the windows were used as the SeeD's primary lookout post. Tonight, it was the perfect view of Dollet's ocean-side scenery. Beneath them, Balamb Garden hovered atop a group of low hills.  
"Beautiful, isn't it?" she said. "Sometimes I'd go here just to look at the night sky and the stars. Something about them helps my mind clear. They take me away from my worries, even for just a second."  
"Maybe their distance from us's why they can do that. It took years an' years for those stars to illuminate their light to us right now. But as my mum'd say, 'Stars ar' a glimpse into the universe's past. But be careful. Nosin' a'things too long ago'll make ye blind of whot's here an' now.'" He looked up at the heavens and laughed ruefully. "Her eccentricity was a bit strong for some people. But she was a tough and smart one. She got me outta the stars an' into reality. How to survive it. How to fight through it sometimes."  
"Your mother must have taught you a lot."  
"Sure. Family's where people learn themselves."  
"That's what many say. I wouldn't know. I've never met my real mother."  
"Never?" He turned slowly to face her. Carefully he asked, "...You were an orphan?"  
"Yes. Along with my friends here in the Garden. We stayed at Edea's orphanage when we were children. Edea was our Matron, the orphans' mother. After that, I got my own, adopted parents..." She shook her head at herself as nostalgia and a bit of melancholy crept in.  
"An adopted family, huh?" He smiled kindly. "Sounds like a child's dream come true."  
"It was what I expected it to be for me."  
Quistis' face was hard to read; the woman herself even more so, yet Bradley still saw a feigned smile upon her lips. Vaguely, he heard the despondency and closure in her tone as well; perhaps even depression. Many before her had veiled pain and truth in guarding, kind gestures. He hated such deceptions. Pretending painful actualities didn't exist never helped anyone or their problems. He had never thought Quistis to be kind that recoils into a shroud. It made him realize how fragile she truly was. Perhaps acknowledging her past was too much for her to face, or she wasn't ready yet. Either way, he had neither the right nor obligation to ask. For her sake, he left the matter be. Deep inside, a guilty part of him wanted to know. He wanted to know how a woman like Quistis came to be. Instead of meddling his curiosity into perilous grounds (which he was an expert at doing), he made himself comment, "This's one impressive Garden, Quistis." _Okay_, he admitted to himself, _a far off statement, Rad, but what else can you say?_  
Beyond Quistis' vision, Bradley sighed a relief as she nodded and said, "Yes, the artisans and mechanics did an outstanding job on it, didn't they?"  
"Oh yeah," he said appreciatively. "Even for an antique, it hovers like a dream."  
She turned to face him. "How did you know it's old?"  
"The Garden's mechanical structure. Dates back about...fifty years or so...it's rarely used these days in spite of its power and speed. The designers were Shumi, but some fellow mechanics I know from Fisherman's Horizon said they've worked on a similar model."  
"I thought you only worked on cars, not Gardens."  
"I like to be all around in my work. Possibly know all the classifications of mobile machinery out there some day."  
Quistis was taken aback. There was nothing particular about his words, but the surety in his tone shocked her. A man who wanted it all....Was it even plausible to receive all he sought for from a short, brittle thing called life? For a full second, she stopped to gaze at his steady, green eyes. Then slowly she asked, "How can you be like this?"  
"Like what?"  
"Act as if Fate itself will mold into your plans."  
"No, not exactly. I figure Fate'll give me a good turn one a'these days. True, I can't say that for sure. No one knows the future. The way I see it, it's a challenge one has to live up to. A promise to oneself to live life."  
She didn't reply. In spite of their instant friendship this was one belief Quistis utterly disagreed with. The future? A challenge? Playing with the unforeseen as some sort of dare was what sane people call reckless. Surely, life itself was not a play. Throughout her entire life, she had viewed her time on earth as a task, laid upon her until her final days. A tolerable thing, one that could be endured. It shouldn't be taken lightly. Finally, she chose to say, "I think it's hypocrisy."  
His smile tilted to one side slightly; his voice was humorous. "Accusing me of being a hypocrite, milady?"  
Why did his voice sound satiric to her? To whom, himself or her? Everything she expected Bradley --an energetic, witty man-- to be was there. But by changing his tone or choice of words, he could imply a deeper or mocked meaning. She was correct in his being artful, albeit she never expected it to be with speech. A trait that got her intrigued, yet puzzled about his nature. Perhaps he liked throwing women off balance with his thought-provoking wiliness, he obviously loved generating unique discussions. "You say you know reality, but you act as if the future is a challenge. Clearly, the two don't match."  
Nonchalantly, he shook his head. "No, they fit fine to me." When he saw the disbelief in Quistis' pinched and confused face, he laughed and said, "I'll prove it to you. How does meeting up for lunch tomorrow sound to you?"  
Again, it took her a while to respond. Out of nowhere, without warning, she had been invited to meet him again. Did he consider their time together as a romantic relation? More importantly, did she? Astoundingly, the thought hadn't come to her until now. Being with him came...naturally. For the first time in her eighteen years, tense awareness was starting to relieve from her. Self-consciousness, in her mind and body, became less prominent in her actions and thoughts. Hence, it was only natural that she replied with, "That sounds fine to me."  
Then, abruptly, she realized how futile it was. _Tomorrow afternoon, Balamb Garden is going to depart from Dollet. How can I see you again? _She was about to ask the question aloud when the overhead speaker announced, "Quistis Trepe, please report to the infirmary immediately."  
"I have to go. I think Dr. Kadowaki needs my help again." When students injure themselves during training, the doctor turned to Quistis for help because she was the one and only ex-instructor every patient related to or adored.  
"I'll meet you tomorrow then, milady." He gave her forehand a quick kiss before walking away to the door. He didn't speak of how they could cross paths again. Maybe he doesn't mean to meet up with me again, she rationalized. It was a bit of a letdown. He was intellectual, engaging and pleasant to talk to. When the announcement repeated itself again, it was only then did she became aware of her stillness. Hastily, she sprinted for the doorway and walked briskly to the infirmary.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Dimmed by a single light source from the computer screen, Squall's dormitory was one of the few rooms still active during the midnight hour. He didn't want to disturb Rinoa by turning on the lights. She was asleep soundly on his bed, heedless to the clicking keyboard. Ever since moving into the Garden, she came to his room every evening, either to say 'good night' or to snuggle next to him on the bed. Tonight, Squall was too agitated to lie down next to her. His instincts and over-thinking bothered him badly. So badly, sleep would not come if didn't check for the new stranger's name in the SeeD's documented reports. All night, he had a stubborn notion of seeing Bradley Atkin's profile in the records not long ago. However, arriving at his goal only made sleep that more impossible to attain. He gave the face a hard, extensive look, yet the longer he stared, the less he became certain if he was looking at Mr. Atkins or an almost identical man. No name or other text came with the monochrome photograph. It was simply a picture of a man with long, bleached hair, a five o'clock shadow and a very intimidating frown. Underneath a mass of wild bangs, the glower definitely didn't match Bradley's ever-slanted grinning face. On the other hand, what kind of man would smile at a filthy, bruised, crime mug? Either the SeeDs or another gang got a good bash at his blotched left eye and jaw. His pale eyes had murderous intent written all over them, but so would anyone else after being thrashed. It looked to be the same exceptional face of a man close to or in his twenties, yet a lot of it was covered by his unruly hair.   
Squall did nothing but stare at it for five minutes. Ultimately, his search ended inconclusively. He would find no more. At least, not in his laptop. If he snooped and asked questions to other Gardens or authorities, he could possibly find the photograph's identity. Generally, he wouldn't bother with nit-picking through people's pasts, but it was Quistis' safety he was considering.   
He had to find out.   
After printing the photograph, he thought of contacting someone who might discern the picture, but it was too late in the evening to be inquiring. Lying down next to Rinoa, he tried his best to slumber. But all he could do was absently drill the man's profile into his over-worked brain.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
"Thanks a lot, Brad! You're doing Nida a great favour. You wouldn't believe how many times he nagged us about it!" Selphie said, giggling and pointing at the Garden's pilot. Nida answered her by humorously sticking out his tongue. Outside the bridge's immense windows, she saw Bradley inspecting what the pilot complained about.  
"No big deal. It's a simple solution of gettin' this panel fixed, really," he said loud enough for the people to hear inside. A linked wire kept him on the metal surface of the ship as he hammered a dent while explaining, "It's amazing how one, tiny nick could tear the sides off this Garden. Y'know that whislin' noise Nida's talkin' about? The shell was startin' to tear. Not too much, but enough for fast winds to go through. See? Right here." He pointed at a hole no bigger than a grain of rice.  
Inside the bridge, she followed where Bradley pointed. When she found it, she gaped at it and exclaimed, "Oooh....We've never noticed that hole before. Uhm....isn't it scary being out there so high up from the ground?"  
"Not really. It's part of m'job more often than not," he answered. After using a welder on the hole, he waved to her, saying, "I'm done. No whisling'll be bothering Nida now."   
As Selphie welcomed him in through an opening, he saw two people arriving from the elevator. The first person he saw was Squall, the man with a semi-permanent frown. His scowl was a bit peculiar; as if he recently found fifty more reasons to detest Bradley. Once the commander's eyes left him, the iciness in him decreased. Squall's attitude made his brows knot as well. Never had he met anyone so determined to despise another man. He hadn't done anything to Squall. He actually tried being polite to him the first time they met, in fact.  
To distract himself from the troubling mystery, he glanced at the second person who entered. His eyes widened slightly; it was Quistis. And she was the perfect distraction; a feminine vision of a two-piece outfit, jangling things on her hips and brown leather gloves and boots. It was the first time he saw her in her regular attire. He noted the long leather hanging on her belt. _A sexy, smart teacher with a whip...the boys must have had quite a lesson_, he thought. _I bet she had fans...Maybe she still does_. Slowly, he scanned her from head to toe with his pale green eyes as she walked towards him. Her blue eyes were wide with surprise. Her eyes were so clear and round, a calm sea. Long strands of gossamer gold framed her soft, pale features. Goddess. It was the exquisite word for the lady he beheld. Without speaking, he watched as Quistis' cheeks gradually turned pink. Her forearms came up around her stomach, he was beginning to realize it was one of her characteristic gestures. Her pouty lips pressed tightly together; she was looking for something to say, he speculated. Then at last she said, "What're you doing here?"  
Off-handedly his answer was, "Does yer groupie have a name?"  
She crossed her arms tightly together and said, "They call themselves the 'Trepies.' Who told you about them? You still haven't answered my question yet."  
"Ah, why I am here...Selphie needed someone to fix a tear. It just happen to know how to solve her problem. Besides, I did say I'll see you today." His eyes became playful again. "And as for yer fans, Quistis, no one told me anythin'. A guess." He laughed. "Cute name, yer groupie has."  
"I thought it was silly when they first came up with it. But they are such dedicated and enthusiastic students as a group so I left them be." She shook her head and laughed sofly. "It's strange that The Trepies still exist after I got demoted."  
He grinned. "No, they're dedicated to ya. You should be proud."  
Quistis bit her bottom lip, then chuckled. "Proud of a fan club? I still don't understand why I have one." Her coy expression told him she was fond of her fans, but didn't think she deserved them. She was modest, careful and rational. It showed on their initial meeting. Yet he felt that the complete opposite was lurking beneath her impish, pale eyes. He considered that perhaps she had a 'devil may care' persona once, a long time ago. Or a wildness in her that hadn't been give a chance to resurface. She was bossy to an extent too, he realized. He became aware of it when she held firmly to her opinions with an authoritative air. On that account, she must have always been the leader of nearly everything in her life. He was captivated by the contrast: head-strong and bossy, but also modest and whimsical.  
"Hey, Quisty!" Selphie greeted as she touched Quistis' arm. "Did Brad tell you he did Nida a great favour? He was sooo skillful, being suspended outside the Garden! And ooh! Did you hear!? Trabia Garden's almost back to its old self, thanks to the Balamb students who came and help them. Trabia thanked us by sending these really fast bikes. Me and Irvy tried them today. They're sooo cool! Why don't you guys take a spin at them? The Garden stopped just a few miles south from Dollet. The view on the sea-side cliff is beautiful!" She inched closer to Quists' ear, winked at her then whispered, "Plus, you get to hug Brad real tight from behind."  
Before Quistis could reply, Squall came marching towards them saying, "Quistis, Headmaster Cid informed me that new, junior students from Trabia Garden will be transferring here today. You will be able to guide and brief them on Balamb Garden and its rules, won't you?" After receiving a nod from her, he turned and walked swiftly back to the pilot's side.  
"Aaaw, Quisty! You could've just refused," Selphie whined.  
"How can I? It's direct orders from the headmaster, isn't it?"  
"Uh-uh." Selphie happily shook her head. "That's not what he said. He could easily brief the students himself." She leaned in closer so that only her and Bradley could hear. "The way me, Zell and Irvine figure it, Squall's been waiting for a plan to get'cha away from Brad." She straightened up and patted them both on the shoulder. "Let me take care of the juniors. I'd really love to! They're from Trabia, after all, so I should be the one showing 'em the ropes."  
"Won't Squall notice me not doing my job?"  
She giggled. "He won't if his busy schedule keeps him occupied long enough." She grabbed Quistis' arm and whispered into her ear again, saying, "C'mon, Quisty. How often do ya get to be with a hunky guy two days in a row? Have fun! Let us kids worry about the work for once. And hey, it'll be fun foolin' Squall too."  
"Thank you, Selphie. I owe you one," she whispered back with a smile.  
Selphie snickered, then as casually as possible she said aloud, "So I'll see you after you brief those junior students then, Quisty." Behind Squall's back, she winked and mouthed, _Have fun, you two!_  
Quistis winked back. It was hard not to make their departure look conspicuous, but with Squall's attention centered on the pilot speaking, the two were able to steal away to the elevator. It wasn't long until they reached the parking lot. Not far from the entrance, they caught sight of a newly manufactured motorcycle. Its coat of emblazoned, fire and silver on a metallic surface shone, even in the dim light of the lot.  
Bradley whistled. "Nice piece of work, Trabia engineers and designers did."  
"It sure is. It looks like it'll run really fast." Quistis stood in front of it and ran her fingers gracefully and smoothly across the handle, the machine's side, then the seat. She turned and discovered Bradley had been silent and staring at her. Their eyes held. Neither of them noticed that no one had spoken a word in a while, and that both of them were still staring.  
Still looking directly into her eyes, Bradley said, "Are instructors and SeeD taught how to ride motorcycles in your academy?"  
"We were trained to operate any kind of vehicle. Though I'm more used to driving vans and cars. It's rare for us to require using a motorcycle during a mission."  
"It shouldn't be rare," he commented. "This thing is definitely a lot faster'n the standard cars in here." He grinned, the devilish slant appearing on the left side of his lips. After he sat himself on the bike, he leaned his elbows on the handles and said, "Do you want to know how much faster?"  
Quistis' smile took on a mischievous hint. "Don't tell me your an expert on motorcycles too."  
He chuckled. "A bloke's gotta learn 'bout sumthin,' though can't say I'm an expert. I jus' happen ta like riding anythin' fast as on my spare time." With ease, he relaxed on the bike's front with both forearms. "An' I ain't surprised ya rarely use 'em. I bet SeeDs --an' their instructors-- 're too...tight fer these kinda things."  
Her smile became wider, mostly because she noticed the thickening of his accent. He was teasing her again, trying to throw her off balance. He was challenging her. He wanted for her to show him different. In a lithe, deliberate motion, she sat behind him and declared, "SeeDs are trained to command anything, Mr. Atkins. Whether it be a situation...or speed. You can go as fast as you want, but you will never see this SeeD become...'tight,' as you've put it."  
Bradley let out a loud laugh; he was shocked and pleased to hear her answer. "Aye, aye. Whatever ye say, Ms. Trepe!" At the step of the accelerator, the engine and exhaust came alive with a roar. In a flash they sped off into the grassy plains with the wheels burning and gripping the surface.  
  
_To be continued..._


	5. Shadowed Past

Trust My Heart  
by: Cathy-chan  
  
**Note: **This chapter's a wee bit more explicit than the romance I'm used to, but what d'ya expect? Me writing PG/G forever? ^_^ It's not too bad though; I'd say PG-13. And when you see these: ******** it means it's a flashback.  
  
Chapter 5: A Shadowed Past   
  
As the sun shone at its highest zenith, Bradley and Quistis rode the motorcycle, heading north. They traveled across the plains, hills and paths of the northwest regions. There were moments when Quistis almost shrieked at how far Bradley was pushing the velocity, but she kept silent. Her heart pounded on her chest and her arms held tightly around his waist, yet she still showed no fear. She was determined to prove her point about SeeDs and the instructors that taught them. At one time when the motorcyle jumped through a huge gap, both of them were nearly scared half to death. But the rest of the journey was smooth and very exhilarating.  
He stopped the vehicle near a cliff beside the ocean. They watched as the brilliant sun gently lay itself on the horizon. As it did so, the sky painted ribbons of golden and orange hues. Suprisingly, the tranquil scene fit in perfectly as the end of their wild, fast day. Bradley pointed to minature rows of rural buildings to their right. When he told her it was Dollet, she not only realized how far they had traveled, but how long they had been away from Balamb Garden. I'm sure Squall knows I'm away by now, she thought. She also knew she had no permission to leave the Garden. But instead of asking Bradley to go back, she leaned her head on his back, thinking of the first day they met. _We saw a sunset just like this one...No, this one's more beautiful somehow_. It was only until the sun disappeared did she spoke.  
"I hope I made my point," she said teasingly and idly.  
He laughed softly. "Nah, yer arms were too tight 'round me. I thought ye were gonna squeeze the air outta me." He looked at her over his shoulders, and said sacractically, "The speed really did a great job on yer hair."  
"I only held tight so I didn't get thrown off the bike," she denied comically. She chuckled as well while undoing the pin behind her head, letting the long, straight strands fall pass her shoulders. She lightly ran her fingers through them. A while later, she placed her hands on his shoulders, sighed then whispered, "Is this what you wanted to prove to me about life?"  
He nodded. "It'll only be a challenge and a promise to be fulfilled if you let it. Otherwise, it'll be just another thing to grudge through, without any purpose or...heart."  
Slowly her head nodded against his back. She understood the idea of life as a tribulation far too well. There were times when she wished for nothing but to huddle around herself and shut out the world. Particularly during her dilemma with her adopted parents. It was not her first time disobeying an authority. Only this time, it was not anger that made her leave without consent. She felt the impulse to tell him about her childhood after the orphanage, but after knowning his views on life and family, would he understood her reasons to be wary? He did not seem to have difficulties with his family; in fact it seemed he had no difficulty with anything. Impulsively, she heard herself ask, "Why?"  
"Why what?"  
"Why show me all of this? How can you see reality to be this exciting?"  
Silently, he stood up from the bike. Taking her hand, he stood her up and said, "Because if I can't see reality for what it's worth, then who will? I wanted to show you this place. And to see what you'd make of it. You let me ride that bike with you and take you here because you trusted me, didn't you?"  
It was true. It was only then did it came to her. Intuitively she did trust him with many things. Even with the ones she didn't trust with herself. It was beyond belief, that she could trust in someone so quickly and easily. Especially when the things and people she trusted before betrayed her. So, carefully, she looked up into Bradley's eyes, now a smoky blue-green. "Should I be trusting you?" she asked him, but she was also directing the question to herself.  
"That's up to you to decide," he answered. "I am asking you, Quistis. Do you trust me?"  
There was no trick to his question. All she had to do was shake her head or say 'no' to deny him the honour. _How can you trust this man?_ a rational voice within asked. _You haven't even spent a week with him yet. You probably never will too, since he's the kind of man that leaves women without regrets_. The voice was loud and clear in her mind. Yet a deeper voice, one she hadn't heard in years, spoke for her. To Bradley, it made her smile and say, "Yes."  
He pulled her closer until her body was against his. She could feel his heart, beating as fast as hers. It felt synchronized; beating as one. It was then that she realized where her answer came from. Her heart. The realization and the heat of his body, made her breathe faster. She thought her heart lost its voice after leaving the orphanage, but it was speaking again, urging her to respond to her desire for him.  
His hand on her neck and hers on his chest, their lips touched gently. It was an innocent contact that relieved a tension they hadn't known existed. He drew her nearer with an arm around her waist.  
Obscurely Quistis remembered a classmate from her junior years that gave her a brief kiss. She wondered if it could be defined as one, it was incredibly homely compared to what Bradley was doing to her now. She was struck with the sweetness of his mouth moving over hers, yet his muscles were strained around her waist. It was palpable what he was holding back. All she had to do was bend her neck backwards and surrender to discover what it was. Her mind swam and scattered, her world was supported by his body and her hands on the back of his neck. It felt delightful, trailing her fingers from the nape to the wild tresses just behind his ear. He reacted to her caresses by slightly parting her mouth with his. She took pleasure from his breath merging with hers.  
Bradley remembered the women he had kissed throughout his adult and teen life. Though it was difficult to summon the memory of those kisses for none of them were ever as tender and sweet as this. There was a certain untainted humanity about Quistis that was irresistible. And a beautiful honesty in her response. He savoured the hint of tangerines she had for lunch and the vague flavour of coffee she had with the fruit. A strange meal, he thought, but it gave her a sweet aroma. He was mermerized that she wore no lipstick, despite her lips' rosy colour. Her hands on his neck were peaceful, yet the delicate touch singed his senses. He considered what she might do if he took the kissing deeper. Would she hit him? Would she deny her obvious hunger for him?.....Or would she agree to it? Again, curiosity had him hanging on a precarious balance. That and lust made his next move even more perilous. There was no doubt they liked each other; no doubt of a fierce connection between them. Nevertheless, he had respect for her. Moreover, he wanted more than a physical fling from sweetly, honest Quistis. Even if a bodily longing was torturing him, he placed both his hands on her shoulders and took a step back.  
He watched as her lashes lazily fluttered up. Underneath them her eyes shimmered with sensuality. They stared at each other and did nothing else. It took a while for their minds to finally register what happened, to function properly.  
Quistis had convinced herself that she had to say something. There had to be words, she assumed, after such an incredible experience. Yet no word came out when she tried opening her mouth to speak, just a soft sound close to a sigh. Strange...did she know how to speak before?  
Unlike her, Bradley recalled how to speak. He just didn't know what exactly to say. His mind searched for the reasons why, but nothing logical (or seemly) came. Worse yet, not even how it happened could be explained. How in the world did he came to ask her if she trusted him anyway? He mulled over it exasperatedly and found no other reason but a sudden whim to kiss her. He was a fair enough and honest man; he would and could never lie to her. Therefore, with nothing useful to say, he tried his luck on saying _anything_. "I...shouldn't have done that....right?" Then he absolutely felt like kicking himself. What would he do if she said 'yes'?  
"...It was...unexpected..." she answered.  
He was perplexed. Was that yea or nay?  
"...but..." she continued, smiling shyly, "...nice..."  
"Good!" he breathed out, unsteadily. That was unmistakably a 'yea'. "You're an amazing woman, Quistis."  
Suddenly, the transmission radio on the motorcycle loudly came to life. A gritty, distorted voice spoke: "Mayday, Mayday! This is Balamb Garden, calling any SeeD or Garden within close proximity. Emergency on south-south-west of Dollet City."  
"The Garden's in danger!" Quistis exclaimed. "Bradley, we have to go back!"  
He nodded. Together, they hopped on the bike. The engine thundered as the motorcycle sped towards Balamb Garden.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
"Stay together and keep as close to me as you can!" Squall yelled. His voice fought against the sound of crunching, ripping and falling metal from the Garden's stern wall. While, at the same time, his whole body was fighting a harder battle: the struggle to stay alert. It was a miracle he was standing. The blow on his head earlier should have forced him unconscious, yet it didn't. Blood was smeered everywhere from his face to his shoulders, but he was awake. His legs were teetering as he stood guarding four juniors from another bout of eruptions. Ears pounding from the explosion's shock, he heard Selphie and Irvine screaming his name as whispers from afar. He strained to crank his head to look over his shoulder. Behind a wall of smoke and his own blurry vision, he saw them extinguishing the flames, making a clearing for him and the juniors. He propelled himself and the children to the opening before collapsing and passing out.  
"Squall!" Selphie cried, shaking him intensely.  
"C'mon, we have to get him and the kids out of here!" Irvine said. At each side, they flung his arms around their shoulders. But just as the exit was near, they suddenly felt the floor tilt backwards. Balamb Garden's main aviation system shattered. The large ring that kept them aloft ruptured at the rear, causing the ship to fall. The Garden buried itself into the sloping turf, demolishing anything in its way. All they could hear and feel were the rocks' violence gnawing the bottomest floor.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Not too far away from the Garden, Bradley and Quistis followed the trailing remains of the ship's enormous ring and metallic armor. Burnt debris were scattered everywhere they looked. The earth was torn asunder, its scars were cleaved very deeply. Judging from the wreckage, the problem went from bad to worse. Quistis was relieved that she saw no cadavers, but she was still dreading that the worst had happened.  
"Please be safe, everyone," she whispered. Leaving her plea into the air, she held her faith strongly as the Garden came to view around a hill. Most of the Garden's upper-front was undamaged, but the bottom of it was buried meters into the land. A shaky gasp escaped her. She tightened her hold around Bradley's waist. "Oh, my god!" she exclaimed in a breathless, trembling voice.  
The motorcycle halted on a screech. With a deft movement, he leapt off the vehicle. He and Quistis hastened to an opening on the ship's wall. From the first moment he had a glimpse of the wreck, it felt almost physically painful to curb the memories of a similar event. Nevertheless, all the while he assisted her on finding her friends, the past rose up into his mind. It was the worsest time to be reminiscing of regrettable events, but the images of it still arose. He heard the sound of his untrained, carefree voice protesting uselessly to older teenagers....  
  
********  
  
"Y'guys, this isn't right!" a sixteen year old protested.  
"Dammit, Rad, ye gonna be styoopid or ye gonna pass me tha' detonation device?"  
The boy's hands shook and faltered. His hands quivered so badly that he almost dropped the switch; his unsteady hands fumbled, but quickly he regained possession of the hazardous tool.   
"Idjyot!" another, older boy spat. "Watch 'ow yer holdin' tha' thing!"  
"T-This isn't right," he repeated meekly.  
"Yer right," the eldest one agreed. He snatched it harshly from the boy's hands and frowned. "I should be the one holdin' this, not you."  
That was not what he meant. He was talking about the bloody bombs they were fixing onto the tanker's hull, he thought despairingly. But none of his three friends heeded his words. Without stopping, they attached it on the boat's end. He remembered them telling him about the powerful weapon they bought off the black market. "It'll go 'boom'! Jus' like tha', destroys everythin'. No matter 'ow big. It'll make one helluva mess. Too bad we can't afford 'nother one to attach on the bridge! That way the SeeDs'll be dead along with their ship!" one of them said earlier. At that time, he was mermerized, now that he was finally doing the deed, it unnerved him.  
It was only anger that made him participate in their 'revolution movement' as they called it. It was nothing more than revenge against government parties and their laws, he knew the truth. For him, it was revenge for his father, Joseph.   
It made him furious.  
Since he was but twelve, he studied in Galbadia Garden and obsessed over attaining the rank of SeeD. But the soldiers with the red and black uniform, the same ones he dreamt of becoming, towed his father's pathetic, writhing body away. Just when his father returned from leaving his family, and when he was gratified to see his father's face after not recalling it for sixteen years, the damnable soldiers marched into their house and took him away.  
Numbly, his focus returned to the task at hand. After making the last check on the explosive device, the three boys dragged him away from the boat, and pressed the switch. He guiltily observed the boat explode, and prayed that no SeeD was in it. Afterwards, he realized whom his anger was directed to at last. And it wasn't the military group at all.  
He was angry at himself for cooperating with a horrendous crime, and letting his rage get the best of him.  
And his father for pretending to return happily home. It was all a feint. His smiles, him saying "I'm sorry I left Laura and you." and his motive to unite his family again. There was only one motive he cared about: to escape his thievery and swindling punishments by utilizing his son and wife as cover. Joseph Atkins didn't even faltered when he lied through his teeth. He was used to lying, deceiving and putting his family in harm for his own selfish benefit.   
He had foced his own son from a career and future to a 2-year sentence in juvenile imprisonment for a crime he barely aided. And he had shamed and marred a wife. Despite her strong will, Laura died of an illness while their son was still in jail. Bradley despaired, never knowing if it was a broken heart that triggered her mournful death. Joseph had escaped and disappeared, as he had always done with everything in his life.  
Even after three years of thinking about it, Bradley could not tell whom he was more angry at, himself or his father...  
  
********  
  
It wasn't until Quistis repeated his name louder did he snapped back to the present. "Bradley! What's wrong?" she asked, concern knitted on her face.  
"Nothing," he said, forcing a steady voice and composure to return. Sluggishly, he began to grasp where he was. Ash and smoke covered the demolished area they were standing in; he was looking at the aftermath of the Garden's destruction. At his side, Quistis was keeping as calm as a capable leader. She helped a few students up their feet, but she was starting to panic. It came back to him: they were looking for her comrades, to see if they survived. "What did you just say?" he asked.  
"I said I haven't seen any of the high-ranking SeeDs yet. They must be helping people in the infirmary. Or maybe they stayed in the bridge."  
Bradley's attention was still having a hard time to readjust, but one of the words she spoke struck him. Why? What was so important with that one word--and which word, he wondered. Then the word came: _bridge_. She said her friends might be in the bridge--Immediately he seized Quistis' hand and tugged her with him. If his hunch was true, Balamb Garden's mess was far from over. He urged her to run faster, to keep up with his relentless pace. While running and dodging every debri that was on the floor, he said, "What's the fastest way to the bridge?"  
She was confused and disoriented. "Uhm....The elevator's the best way to get there, but surely it's been shut down. So the only way there is the emergency ladder right beside it."   
After the words left her mouth, he stopped and grabbed her shoulders. "Go and look for your friends in the infirmary. If they're not there or the place's destroyed get out as soon as you can. If they are, get them out and stay out no matter what happens."  
Just as he was about to leave, she gripped his hands. "What's going on!? I don't understand. Tell me, Bradley!"  
He wanted to tell her, to ease her worries, but there was no time. "Just go! Everything'll be fine if you do what I say. Trust me!"  
She lingered for a second, then nodded. "Be careful and stay away from harm."  
He watched as she headed for another direction and nearly laughed drly from bitter irony. Wasn't he doing the exact opposite, heading directly into harm's way? During the perilous ascend from the emergency ladder, his logical brain warned him how insane he was. He didn't know a single thing about disarming a bomb. Except what little he learned during his short time in Galbadia Garden, he didn't have a clue about explosive devices. He had no reasoning for his theory either, just a hunch and what one of the three boys had said. Maybe suddenly losing himself in the past wasn't the worst thing, after all.  
He arrived at the headmaster's room. Thankfully no one was there and the room was untouched by the blasts. Amazingly, his luck held when he found that the lift to the bridge was still operational. His last task was to find the explosives hidden somewhere inside the room. It obviously was hidden very well for none of the SeeDs noticed anything suspicious. Nor did it make any sound. He didn't noticed anything strange either while fixing Nida's problem that morning. Therefore, it couldn't have been attached outside.  
"All right, Rad, think! If I were a saboteur, where would I plant a bomb...?" he muttered to himself frenziedly. He searched the large steering wheel, every control panel, the ceiling, the walls and found nothing. To make it more dreadful, he had no idea when the bomb's timer was set or if someone far away was holding the activator. It could go off any moment.   
With all his might, he calmed his fast breathing and tried to remain controlled. Habitually when stressed out, he cooled it off by pacing. While accidently hitting his feet on a one-step to a raised platform, he discovered a hollow area. One of the platform's panels was loose. Underneath it was the explosives, ready to initiate in fifteen seconds. It appeared to be nothing more than a black box with a timer; there was no wires to cut, no buttons to push. Thus, Bradley did the only thing possible. Wincing that the explosives might to go off on his hand, he hurled it through the bridge's front window with less than ten seconds left on the clock. It was barely a couple of meters away from the Garden when the blast tore the sky. A wave of its power with smoke and fire coursed through at his direction. The last he saw in a blur was the windows breaking and a torrent of sharp, heavy fragments falling down on him.  
  
_To be continued..._


	6. Is It Love?

Trust My Heart  
by: Cathy-chan  
  
Chapter 6: Is It Love?  
  
They felt the Garden's foundation shake after a loud noise and a minute's worth of rumbling. A flash of harsh light stronger than the first impact could be seen outside the room's damaged windows. The students and high-ranking SeeDs, the ones still able to stand, gathered around to watch. They all watched, puzzled why an explosive would go off in the air. Some whispered that an enemy attacked them and missed, while others suggested the possibility of a comrade that saved them from another catastrophe.  
The one person that knew who rescued them fell into a state of shock and dread. Quistis dropped the first aid kit on her hands with a noisy clang. She had no idea how she knew, the feeling of her blood freezing, her body tensing, at hearing the eruption forced her to react. She had also realized why he sounded so desperate and so insistent on her staying in the infirmary. Instead of picking up what she dropped, she dashed for the gap through the broken door.  
"Quistis!" Dr. Kadowaki called out. She turned to Squall, now awake and leaning on a wall with a cloth wrapped around his head. "Where's she going?"  
He shrugged, muttering to himself, "That's what I'd like to know too."  
  
~~~~~~  
  
The shockwave of the blast had torn the headmaster's office. It became nothing more than a heap of rubble and dust. Quistis had to duck, push and cautiously feel her way through them to find what was left of the ceiling. Parts of the bridge still had a floor. Climbing a fallen metal beam, she found what appeared to be the prow of the ship's piloting area. The large steering wheel lay on the ground, cracked into three pieces. She scanned the bridge's frightful muddle while crying out his name. With apprehension, she envisioned Bradley out cold, buried in a tonne of metal, barely alive with no breathing space. She called out his name for the fourth time, louder than the last. In her side vision, she saw movement, someone stirring underneath layers of metal sheets. As she got nearer, she discerned a muffled sound coming from the activity.  
"Hold on. I'll get these things off." Quistis used all of her arms and hands' strength to lift the huge, metal pieces off. After quite an effort and scuffed hands, she was able to take Bradley out from beneath the debris. His clothes were ripped everywhere, the colours lost in a coating of soot. Scratches and small bruises where scattered here and there on his body. She drew back when she saw the metallic shreds embedded on his thigh. Moreover, his left forearm was broken, she guessed by his flinch when she moved it. The Garden's infirmary had taught her how to look for signs of internal bleeding. She breathed a relief, there was none. Also it didn't seem his injuries overly hurt him, in fact he looked pleased to see her when he opened his eyes.  
Quistis felt gladdened, a tightness in her heart suddenly easing off. But her mood didn't stop her from scowling slightly and asking, "I thought I told you to stay away from harm? You charged right into it!"  
"So ye've told me to stay away," his voice sounded meek, but a smile was appearing on his lips as he said, "but what y'don't know is that I don't take orders from women." His small smile turned into a grin. "No matter how cute or bossy they are--Ow!" He groaned, fully realizing the magnitude of his leg's injury.  
She reacted to his pains and supported him up to his feet by slinging his undamaged arm around her shoulder. Though utterly worried for his sake, she was both baffled and amused that he could still be humorous after a difficult experience. She answered his playful cheekiness by saying, "Well keep in mind, Bradley, you'd do well to listen to this 'cute, bossy' woman since she's your only hope to get to a doctor."  
He laughed delicately; he grimaced when the tiny action reached the pain on his arm. "Indeed, yer my champion, milady."  
Her expression became serious. She shook her head. "You're the hero. You've rescued this Garden from more suffering, and you did it knowing you could've been killed."  
Beyond her eyesight, she didn't see the change in Bradley by looking at his eyes. Oh, how little she knew of him if she deemed him a hero, he thought bitterly. "Any of you SeeDs could have done that. I was merely doing what is expected." He was half-surprised and annoyed at hearing the venom and ice laced in his voice. But he wasn't being cold to her for praising him. No, the harshness was directed at himself.  
He was waiting for her to react to the visible change in his mood, to pass judgment or question him. But instead she smiled kindly and said, "You underestimate yourself. Not anyone could've done what you did." She looked up to him quizzically. "How did you know about the bomb? No one thought there could be another one after the kind of damage the first one did."  
_Ah_, he thought, _the questions finally comes_. He knew it was only a matter of time until someone distrusted him. He wasn't resentful about it, he had learned to face the consequences his past long ago. For now, he answered her question as best he could without revealing overly much. "I knew from something someone I once knew told me."  
Quistis blinked and thought over his answer. He was being vague and evasive again. She had noticed his accent becomes distinct only when he was jesting or nervous. When serious, his intonation disappears completely. His tone was final, he didn't wish to discuss it further. For that reason, and in respect for him, she didn't probe for a clearer explanation. She purposefully pushed it behind her thoughts. She turned and faced him, her faces inches from his, and smiled, the gesture warming her pale, summer-ocean eyes. "Thank you. You've saved many people and Balamb Garden. We are grateful to you." She gave him a soft, tender kiss on the cheek.  
Bradley felt her sincere gratitude deep inside. Her show of appreciation was well worth the scrapes and foolish heroics in his reckoning. He knew his bravery came from thinking about Quistis. The warmth of her kiss traveled along his face. He smiled, dumbfounded to find himself flushing. _Blimey! _he thought. _I haven't blushed since I was a kid_. Feeling abruptly like a bashful boy again, he muttered, "...Your welcome."  
She giggled, hugging her arm closer around his waist.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
"Good gracious, boy! How could you treat your body like this?" Dr. Kadowaki scolded jokingly, distracting him from her tweaking the shards of metal out of his leg.   
" 'Tis what I get fer gallantry, Doc--!" A sharp, angry sting came from a large piece. Much as her diversions were valued, Bradley still felt as if a Red Dragon was gnawing off his leg.  
"You are lucky to be alive after such a feat. It's a marvel you didn't get blown to bits. Honestly, you remind me of the many, many eager and talented SeeDs that visit me daily because of their reckless heroism." The good-natured doctor took off the last sharp pieces, wrapped a bandage around the wounds and proclaimed, "There you go, all done! How does your leg feel?"  
He bend his knees back and forth. "Much better." He gave her an imitated, soldier's salute. "You are a miracle worker, Dr. Kadowaki! Simply the best!"  
"And I've never had such a spirited, strong patient!" she returned. She wagged a finger at him and placed a fist on her hips. "Now don't think your flattery's going to let you off about keeping that brace on your broken arm."  
He grinned crookedly. He lifted the cast arm, a long fabric looped around, supported to his neck. "Aye, it'll stay there like ya said, Doctor."  
"Now, I want you to go back home to Dollet and rest, Mr. Atkins. No shenanigans or work for six months." She was about to pivot in her heels when she thought to add, "And I'll make sure to send Quistis once a month to make sure you're following my prescriptions." With a nod and a smug look on her face, the doctor moved on to her other patients.  
Quistis heard Dr. Kadowaki's words while she was mending a patient's arm, and halted for a minute. The doctor had never assigned a SeeD to check up on a civilian's condition. Yet Quistis knew her friend well enough to know her schemes. She smiled a bit. Apparently, Selphie was not the only one that encouraged her to indulge. After helping another wounded SeeD, she went to Bradley's side. "How are you doing?"  
"Fine," he said, cheerfully. "Dr. Kadowaki fixed me up real good."  
She was about to mention, just as merrily as him, that visiting him every month would be a nice break from her hectic schedule, when a junior student walked up to her and said, "Commander Leonhart asked me to tell all the primary SeeDs that he'd like to talk to them right away. He said it's important. He also said to meet up at the new meeting room."  
She nodded. "I'll be there right away. Thank you."  
The junior smiled and saluted formally before departing.  
"I have to go," she told Bradley. She put his hand gently into hers. "Will you be all right?"  
"Yeah. As long as I can find someone that's willing to drive me back to Dollet."  
"Of course they'll be willing. Everyone knows what you did for them. I've been hearing from the patients that they think you're a hero."  
"Thanks," he said, forcing a light-hearted tone. He had no idea where his next move came from. It was senseless impulse that had him taking her hand before she left and asking, "Do you want to meet again tomorrow at the place we went?"  
"Sure," she answered effortlessly, though she looked stunned at him for asking.  
He kept his hand on hers, and marveled that she could answer him without hesitation. He felt the desire to kiss her then and there at the pure sight of her unreserved smile. He kissed her hand, instead of her lips as he wanted, and bid her farewell.  
After letting Quistis go back to her duties, he found the student that was eager to drive him to Dollet. Though the word 'eager' didn't quite fit the boy's description. He was extremely, wholly, lavishly overjoyed that he could assist "the one hero that saved our Garden from going into the junk heap." Bradley agreed with half of the green boy's comment. If the bomb on the bridge hadn't been deactivated, the entire ship would collapse entirely. More powerful than the first, it could have leveled all, leaving nothing but a huge crater. Even so, he was certain a man like him was unworthy of the word 'hero.' He simply acted on it because of his incorrigible intuition. It was never his intention to redeem himself, he thought only of the lives at stake.  
During the car ride to Dollet, he wondered if he knew the saboteurs that were involved in the attack. The placement of the bombs were exactly as one of them said three years ago: one at the back, one in the bridge. He had never, however, thought them capable of sinking so low. Disabling an armoured boat was a crime, but obliterating a Garden's population was something else altogether. It was genocide.   
Later when the Balamb student dropped him off politely at Dollet's entrance, he weighed the idea of investigating the whereabouts of the three. But after some years and a bad reputation as criminals, he doubted they still lived close to or inside the city. Furthermore, it would be unwise to confront anyone. Even if it were only one man, Bradley would not survive or escape, in light of his body's condition.  
Descending down the cobbled sidewalks of the city's local areas, he arrived at his tiny apartment above the auto shop. His bound leg felt ached after the short walk. While he relaxed his tired limb on the edge of a bed, he thought of Quistis again. He looked forward to seeing her again the next day. He snorted gruffly at himself, and thought: didn't he had the gall and audacity to date a SeeD? Even if he had nothing against them anymore, and was clear of any indictment, his rational side told him--warned him--to stay away. _Besides_, he thought glumly, _once she really gets to know me and my past, I'm sure she'd stop liking me._  
For the time being, he would enjoy any time he had with her. She was unlike any woman he had ever met. Kind, smart, forthright, bossy and enthrallingly beautiful, Quistis was the kind of woman a man would die or live for. He certainly almost died saving others for her sake. He wouldn't be surprised if he did something rash again just for her. He wondered: What did lure him to Quistis? Was it more than physical attraction. Was it love? He didn't have the answer...not yet.  
Stretching his tall frame on the bed, he closed his eyes with the image of her smiling, soft face, and thought: _I wonder if she feels the same..?_  
  
~~~~~~  
  
_'Do you want to meet again tomorrow at the place we went?'_ Thrice she had been asked and thrice she had accepted. She wanted to see him again, but she wasn't expecting to answer so quickly. No thinking it through--no irresolution... amazing. Her pledge to herself to be more spontaneous was working so well! Reacting on free whim made her head and whole spirit feel light. Even so, she felt a bit guilty and selfish for feeling pleased after what her friends went through. As a responsible and dedicated SeeD, her prime concern was justice and service to Balamb Garden. Circumstances didn't leave her a lot of time to think of anything else.  
But for an ephemeral moment before entering the temporary meeting room, her fast walking slackened and she wondered: What did lure her to Bradley? Was it more than physical attraction. Was it love?  
She was certain he liked her, but that was as far as her certainties went.  
Taking her seat on the commander's right hand, she thought of the things she found appealing about him. His looks were striking enough, very different from the men she knew. Charming and hilarious when comical; astute and enigmatic when serious. He fascinated and affect her in many ways. Most surely other women had fallen for his charisma as well. It wasn't hard to imagine other females dazed at his virility and manner. The word 'chivalry' fit him well too. He was a gentleman to her, and he also saved stranger's lives without boasting about it. However, save his name, city and personality, she knew nothing else about him.  
On her shoulder, she felt a tap. Selphie's smile beamed. "So how was your date with Brad? Was it fun and uh....good?"  
"Oh." A blush and sly smile rose from her face at the other woman's implication. Close to a whisper, she answered, "It was fun."  
She smiled back widely. The rest of Quistis' answer was on her smile. Selphie crouched, leaned her elbows on the table and, as silently as her excited voice could muster, sang, "Quisty has a sweeeetie!"  
Quistis giggled nervously. "I-I'm not too sure about that....but I really do like him." Solemnly, she looked at Selphie. "Do you think I should see him again?"  
"Sure! He's a great guy! I say go for it, gurl!!" she cheered loudly.  
The other two in the room turned to look at them.  
Irvine was the first to react. He grinned knowingly. "Yeah, go for him, Quistis."  
Zell took a little longer to grasp it. "What? Go for wh--?" He changed from puzzled to amused. "Hehehe, yeah! S'bout time you get a guy."  
"All of you know!?" Quistis gasped.  
Irvine shrugged and chuckled. "What's so hard to guess? It's all there when you guys look at each other." He shifted in his laid-back posture, becoming impatient with their leader. "He's acting pretty strange lately, eh? He calls us out for a meetin', then he doesn't show up."  
Quistis and Selphie looked up to the head of the table. Squall was not there.  
"Mmmmaybe he's still trying to recover from that bump on his noggin," Zell said.  
"Or maybe Rin's keeping him to herself," Selphie added with a snicker.  
As if their mention of him caused his appearance, they heard their commander's voice in the hallway. It carried his normal, smooth tone, close to a whisper. Though underneath it was cold, threatening. The intimidation accentuated by the sound of his gunblade hitting the ground. "What're you doing here?"  
Then came another's voice, one they hadn't heard during the final days of the war. It was as arrogant and loud as when it rang in Lunatic Pandora half a year ago. Even with a wall between, they could still feel his nefarious sneer. "What? Can't a former student visit his heh--apparently runned-down Garden?"  
"...No way...!" Zell uttered raggedly.   
All four people stood up. Warily, they opened the door. In the hallway, Squall stood, his stance ready to lunge his weapon forward. Behind his upraised arm he guarded Rinoa. Her face's pale skin looked nearly white; shock, yet anger also, were in her eyes. The object of their hatred stood a mere meter away. Nonplused by any of the now dozen eyes glaring at him. The grey trench-coat swayed slowly as he took one step forward. Just like the commander, he had a gunblade in one hand.  
"What's the matter? Did I come at a bad time? Guess I did. Your security these days is badly lacking. I guess everyone's so hot on repairing the 'precious' Garden."  
Squall's grip on his weapon tightened, the antagonism burning, lion-fierce, in his sapphire eyes. "You are not welcome here, Seifer. If you still have sanity or decency left in you, leave now."  
"Tsk, tsk. That's no way to talk to an old friend." Seifer nonchalantly bounced Hyperion's handle on his shoulder. "It's actually a bit of the 'decency' you're talking about that led me here. And if you are sane enough, Squall, you'd better listen to what I have to say. Because if you don't, I'd say you're in for a lot deeper shit than what happened here."  
The commander didn't answer or move. Still fully alert, he watched as Seifer's brash, grinning face turned to Quistis. "This deals with your new fling, Ex-instructor Trepe," he continued. "What's his name? Bradley Atkins, is it? Could've picked someone better than him to date, he has quite a history. I wouldn't be surprised if you dating him caused Balamb Garden's mess."  
"Shut up, man! Don't talk to Quistis like that!" Zell snapped at him. "Why should we listen to a damn word you say, huh? You're jus' here for a fight! Well, if that's what you're askin' then we'll give you a hell of a freakin' fight!"  
Seifer lifted an index finger, as if that alone would stop the other young man's rage. "Please, Chicken-Wuss, I didn't come here to listen to your babbles." His attention moved to Quistis again. "How did you think he knew where the bomb was? Why would a meager mechanic date a SeeD? Why was the Garden bombed just when he started showing up and introducing himself? All a coincidence? Hah! He planned it all, that's what. I've been keepin' an eye on him and his group. They're up to no good."  
"And I suppose your good intentions brought you here to say that?" Squall asked coldly. "Do you have any evidence to back that up?"  
Seifer snorted loudly. "C'mon, Squall! You're as much of a bastard as I am. You'd be suspicious of a guy like Atkins, right? I know you. I know distrust and doubt're swarming around your do-gooder head." From underneath his jacket, he fished out a brown, rectangular envelope and tossed it to Squall's feet. "Here's the evidence you want so badly. S'all there."  
While keeping an eye on Seifer, he warily opened the package. Inside were the things he had validated his notions of Mr. Atkins earlier. A criminal record, another monochrome, profile mug and something else...  
Quistis walked to Squall and asked softly, "What does it say?"  
"It says he's a master of controlling Guardian Forces, specifically the more dangerous ones." She was about to relax in relief, when she saw Squall opening his mouth again. His eyes became visibly wider. He was vaguely aware Bradley's name rang a bell in his head. Now, the documents in his hand confirmed the worst. "It says his father is Joseph Atkins, the convict better known as the leader who caused the Grandon Massacre..."  
  
_To be continued...  
  
_**Author's Note: **Ah! Now finally comes Seifer. Now, I hope I don't hafta remind you that this fic isn't a Seiftis (or Quifer). Notice the little reference? The name "Grandon" is from Dave Duncan's novels, Guilded Chain, Sky of Swords, etc. Hehehe, just thought to use that name 'cause I love his storytellin' so much. Goodness! Have you noticed how long this fanfic has become? I didn't expect to be writing it this...er detailed! Anyway, I hope you like where it's going so far and give me some more feedback on the story. Thanks for reading it!


	7. Heart & Mind

Trust My Heart  
by: Cathy-chan  
  
Chapter 7: Heart & Mind  
  
" 'Grandon Massacre'? What's that?" asked Rinoa, unaware of the sudden, agitated silence.  
Selphie had a better understanding. Like most of them there, she was still having trouble sinking their commander's words in. "I thought that was just a boogie story to make the Juniors fly straight."  
"It sounds really bad..." Rinoa commented.  
"Yeah, it's that bad," Zell said. The typical joking grin on his face was completely gone. "I remember the instructors telling me this story when I was a Junior. That guy used to be a SeeD, they said. He was part of a small, newly formed Garden called Grandon 'cause it was beside a small town with the same name. Then someone really wanted the SeeDs dead, so the guy betrayed them by telling the enemies everything about the ship's weak points for some cold, dirty cash. Him and the enemies planted bombs on Grandon Garden," He paused, swallowed. "and it fell beneath the town. The people in both the ship and town died instantly after an explosion."  
"It's real facts according to that file." Seifer said; he looked nearly smug about his findings, yet with it was deep seriousness. Once again, he turned to Quistis, his tone impersonal, not mocking. "It's not commonly talked about these days, being such a horror story to all Gardens. They don't say much who caused it; Mr. Atkin's father is just a con-man, a simple theif. But because of his treason many years ago, he's been a wanted man for a long, long while. They say he's still out there, forming a destructive group."  
Quistis didn't answer quickly, her mind was elsewhere, trying to comprehend something else. Her voice sounded distant. "I...I've never listened to any of the scary stories about Gardens. I was too busy paying attention to my studies or instructing..."  
"Then get ol' Commander here to tell it to you, since he likes logical statements so much." Seifer returned Hyperion back into the folds of his trenchcoat. "In the meantime, I'm gonna see who else's involved in this besides your new friend. He couldn't have bombed the Garden by himself."  
"Where are you going?" Squall asked coldly.  
"Where do you think, P-Boy? You of all people know the Garden needs to get justice so I'm gonna investigate, find the other thugs responsible."  
"You...?" he sneered. "Wanting justice?"  
"That's what I've always been doing since the Disciplinary Committee. What're you thinkin' anyway, keep me here for doing nothing wrong? 'Sides, 'Commander Leonhart,' I'm the most capable here to get to the bottom of the case. You SeeDs just stay here and repair your Garden while I arrest them."  
Zell and Irvine's eyes all but went in flames at Seifer's haughtiness.  
"What makes you think we'll trust you with anything?" Irvine asked rudely.  
Seifer snorted. "Heh! I don't need your trust. I'm doing this by myself."  
His rival looked at him thoughtfully and asked, "You could be setting us up, working for the criminals themselves."  
Confidently, Seifer showed a wicked grin. "If I was you'd all be dead by now." He turned for the exit. "Anyway, what're you gonna do 'bout it? I'm a clean man now, Squall. Can't just beat me up for giving you evidence." With many eyes glaring at his back, he left as calmly as he came. Secretly, Irvine whispered something in Squall's ear, and the commander nodded an approval.  
Quistis' attention was returning to the present. She asked Squall, "How can you be sure that Bradley is involved in the bombing? What if he really did save the Garden...?" she stopped herself from adding _'..and what if his kind words to me were honest?'_  
Squall raised a brow. "You think he's innocent?"  
"Well...m-maybe all of it really is a coincidence," she continued doggedly on, trying to let it all out before she lost her calmness, "I mean you all saw he got injured in rescuing the Garden, right? He was with me the whole time. He's not the kind of person to hurt others. He's not a bad person. He couldn't've....!"  
Squall came closer to her, he said softly, "Quistis, you know I've been suspicious of him since I first saw him..." He felt like the biggest jerk, but she had to know the truth. With keeping his eyes on the envelope and not her, he continued, "I've been researching Bradley's file recently, and what Seifer has's pretty close to what I got." He looked up, waited for Quistis to look at him before speaking again. _She has to know or else she'll get hurt a lot more if I don't tell her now. _"Bradley Atkins was jailed three years ago. Something concerning a small gang he formed to bomb an armoured SeeD boat. This was after being reported that he spent time with his father, Joseph, and quit his enrollment at Galbadia Garden. He was following his footsteps, Quistis...I'm sorry..." Adding the apology in the end didn't stop the flicker of pain he saw in her expression. He considered speaking more of his sympathy, wrapping an arm around her or....something. He knew Quistis since childhood; there must be something he could do as a friend.   
But before he could do anything, she backed away. "...I need to rest for a while," she said slowly. "I've been up all day helping the injured." A lie. What she really wanted was time to think and grow sadder.  
"All right. Take as much rest as you want." He watched her turn and disappear across the hallway. She looked very tired, he thought. He felt like kicking himself for being the one to shove reality at her. And he wanted to stab his gunblade at Bradley's chest for using her. But attending to the Garden and its people were more important than revenge at the moment. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He turned to the others. "That's what the meeting would've been about. The rest of you can go back to assisting the ship's repair. I'm going to...take a break for a while. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my dorm."  
Rinoa followed him without argument while the others scattered to other locations, all thinking of one, heartbroken friend.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Quistis went to the one place that could comfort her. No one was at the secret balcony connected to the Training Center; they were all busy reconstructing the Garden. She was next in line to Commander Leonhart, she should be commanding things as well, but she couldn't. She assumed the view of the setting sun on the balcony would help, but it didn't. For her brain had been drowned out by the words yelling in her head: _You've been used...this is the punishment you get for trying to trust in people again...it was all a trick..._  
The screaming words formed visions of an adopted mother and father in her mind. The memories resurfaced on their own accord. She could feel the old regrets and bruises again. She trusted Fate to give her a family that would understand. She trusted them to love her, instead they tried to rule her life, tried to stop her from achieving her dreams. It had hurt too much; she ran away to a Garden. Then her heart said she loved Squall, but it was wrong again. Again and again, she had wounded herself with a foolish heart, until she could stand no more of it. She stopped listening to its cries for someone to love, for someone to believe in.  
Then Bradley came along. As if those previous disappointments and hurt didn't exist, she trusted him. It marveled and pleased her like nothing else to see him look at her the way he did. He freed her from the familiar doubt that surrounded her every, single day. As she leaned on the railing, staring blindly at the setting sun, she began to realize the impact he had made on her. Everyday things began to look different; she herself felt different. But hadn't she known him for only a couple of days or so? It felt like forever to her, as if there was an important transition in her life. She had received tenderness and betrayal in one brief encounter. The price she paid for a few day's happiness.  
After being bruised repeatedly throughout her life, she had found a way to hide the pain with smiles and solitude. She even found a way to cope with the painful experiences with an objective view. _You should've listened to your brain earlier, Trepe_, she told herself. _If you did none of this would've happened. You should be happy, Trepe. Now the Garden will know who to arrest. Now you can go back to your career; no more getting sidetracked--_ Tears began to form on her eyes. _--sidetracked by what? Love?  
_Her hands began to tremble, then her entire body. The shaking brought her to her knees. An acid taste lodged in her throat. She couldn't understand where the tears, the unstoppable sobbing, came from. She was frustrated at suddenly seeing his face in her mind, at feeling his kiss on her lips. She still felt betrayed most of all. Though, this time, her heart cried out that she had betrayed herself.  
_What if they're wrong? _A small voice inside her asked. _What if for once, Quistis Trepe, your heart is the one and only thing that's right?_  
"What if...?" she whispered. Ridiculous! There were too many other things and people that said otherwise. It was the most illogical theory she had ever formulated in her life. Then again, emotions were never rational.   
No solid proof of a criminal. Other things must be considered. For one, she saw him injured after rescuing the Garden. True, it was strange that he knew about another explosive, but he seemed genuinely serious about saving her and her friends' lives. The explosive device in the bridge was clearly more powerful than the one at the rear. Why plant a bomb at a crucial place one day and throw it out of the window the next? If Bradley was a saboteur, would it not been wiser to disappear while he had the chance? He could've made it appear as if the bomb killed him while he was trying to save the ship, leaving the SeeDs with no trace of a suspect. And since when did the ship's security become so weak in the bridge? There was always at least one person in the bridge at night or day, and it also had its own computerized security system too. Selphie and Nida watched while he repaired the window; it was impossible to do anything then without them noticing. She also remembered not taking Bradley to the back of the ship since it was an uninteresting area. As far as she knew, he had never been there.  
The two sides of the story were beginning to weigh evenly. Perhaps the evidence against Bradley weren't as strong as everyone thought. He had done a felony in his youth, as Squall told her, but there was a strong line between damaging a ship and attempted slaughter of SeeDs. Fathers, more often than not, shape the lives of their son, but she didn't strike Bradley as one that did heinous deeds merely because his father, Joseph, told him to do so.   
She wiped the tears away and stood up with weakened knees.  
SeeDs were taught to trust methodical reasoning to solve a mystery; therefore, it was no surprise everyone she knew, including her friends, had a negative conclusion for Bradley. _Squall had a bad feeling for him in the beginning, but was it just because of his name? I know he's like that 'cause he cares, but could his good intentions cloud his judgment?_ Quistis thought. _The most logical explanation to every, single problem is not always the answer....Right? _She would take hold of no arguments or judgments...not yet...not until she was absolutely certain she had uncovered all.  
With purposeful steps and a singular destination in mind, she strode through the hallways. Courage came to her, in spite of it being a little unsteady. She would not yield until the truth was found. Risking all, she trusted her heart and mind. And if all were true, perhaps there was still hope for the growing love she felt was meant to be.  
  
_To be continued..._
  
  
Author's Note: It was a bit on the short side, right? I know I usually write my chapters long, but, at the moment, I couldn't figure out what to do about the next events. '^^ Hope it's not a case of writer's block, eh? I'm not an author prone to writing mystery fics, but this must be the first one that comes close. They didn't explain anything about Quistis' past in the game. Only close to the very end did she say somthing about her adopted parents and her running away during a visit to Edea's orphanage. So I filled in a bit of an explanation and a past in this chapter. Anyway, tell me what you think so far. I didn't expect anyone to be reading this since people mostly are into Seifer+Quistis stuff, but I like being unprecedented and unconventional. Hope you like it so far. Thanks again for readig it! 


	8. Everything to Win

**Trust My Heart**  
by: Cathy-chan  
  
**Note:** the format has changed due to the changes in fanfiction-dot-net. Instead of seeing those star marks (like from Ch. 5) you will see "FLASHBACK:" within a section. That's an indication that that section is a flashback. (duh :P)  
  
**Chapter 8: Father and Son**  
  
Bradley's eyes opened at the sun's rays streaming outside from a veil of morning fog. It was the thought of seeing Quistis again that had him fully awake. They were to meet in the afternoon; he had a lot of time in his hands. Cautiously, as to not move his broken arm too much, he stood up from the bed and put his clothes on. Without much of a conscious decision, he slipped on his working gloves and headed downstairs to the garage.  
All his life, he had done a lot of jobs to make ends meet. Some were fulfilling to do, while others seemed pointless. Most, if not all, required his hands and arms; to do things such as pick up heavy objects, use metal tools or assemble machines. He found most of the jobs in the old satellite. After the war, it was no longer used for conflicts in politics. Instead it was used as a long-range, communication system linked to every important city in the world. Though these were just jobs; he had a career in mind.  
No matter how futile it seemed at times, he still dreamt of becoming a Guardian Force Researcher. He had no training or academic knowledge about the mysterious creatures; just the things he had uncovered after stumbling upon a GF's remains in his youth. The fossils were still kept secret in an alcove not too far from his home town. He stayed in Dollet for that reason. He couldn't move to a big city or tell anyone else of his discover, not until he had a valid theory on GFs. In the meantime, fixing cars and miscellaneous machinery in his auto shop kept him busy and kept the bills payed.  
He recalled Dr. Kadowaki's advice --more like a command-- to not do any work as he reached for a wrench. He recalled the sober warning in her voice; as if a little labour would tear his arm off. Could he stay sane if he spent the next hours without working? _Like hell I can!_ he answered. _How am I suppose to run this shop today and for the next half of the year then?_ On the other hand, much as it annoyed him, he couldn't overlook the good doctor's prescription. After quickly thinking it over, he settled on doing mild work that didn't have a lot of movement or strain.  
Just then three figures arrived at the garage's entrance. Bradley had no need to turn and see their faces. His quick instincts told him of trouble. An old trouble returned after his three years of trying to block it. Emotions came and went in him: anger, shock, anxiety. Following what seemed like a long moment, he turned and lifted himself from a crouched position. His gaze met a familiar face. His grey-ocean eyes didn't reveal the panic growing in his mind.  
He watched the man at the forefront step forward. His hair, almost similar to his only less golden, swayed in the mild wind. They were physically identical, save that one of them was two dozen years older. So were other attributes --charisma, manner, intelligence-- but only to a small extent. Bradley hoped dearly that the similarities were only skin deep.  
"Raddy, don't ya know me? I know yer mem'ry's not so bad's to forget yer own pop."  
Bradley grimaced openly from hearing his old nickname. "I remember," he answered coolly. His voice was harsh and serious. There was no trace of an jovial accent in his voice. "Unless you're here for a car tune-up, leave. Actually, save me the trouble and just leave."  
"That's not a kind way to greet yer pop, Raddy," he drawled in a baritone voice. "Got very rude over the years, didn't ya? Whatever happened to that nice boy of sixteen that greeted me home before?"  
"Whatever happened to honouring your wife, my dead mother?" he countered with a slight tremor in his voice.  
More wrinkles appeared on his face as he frowned. "Ya blame me for her death? I heard. She died of an illness last year, right?" He bowed his head. "I'm sorry for what happened to yer mom, Bradley."  
"No, you're not." His hand tightened around the wrench he held. "You want something from me. I don't care about you or your problems. Get out of my sight or--!"  
Joseph interrupted him with a short guffaw. "Ye've grown a backbone. I'm impressed! But ye'll do what exactly? Take on me and my men with that on ya?" He grinned and pointed at the cast arm. "Ye've got guts and heart, Raddy, but ya got no smarts." He paused and looked directly into his son's face. "Ye'd do well to listen to yer ol' man; specially since what I hafta say concerns ya."  
He let out a short, dry laugh. "And what does your dishonest...'day job' have anything to do with me? You mean to say you want me to get trapped into your schemes again. It isn't going to happen." With no more words of dismissal, he returned to his work.  
Behind his back, he felt his father come too close for his comfort. "So are them girls in the town still chasin' ya around, Raddy?" he said casually, as if the harsh words were never spoken. "Seems ye've set yer sights on a beautiful, blonde one, eh? She's a real lady, ain't she? SeeD too. Heh! Ain't that sumthin'..."  
For a fraction of a second, Bradley's hand stopped, then continued to do its work.  
"Quistis Trepe..." he persisted conversationally. "Even her name's pretty."  
"...What does that have to do with anything?"  
"Her Garden's been bombed, right? Seems to me they've been through a lotta 'ell since ye came and visited them."  
It didn't took another word to know what his father implied. Disturbingly, it also didn't took a lot of imagination to visualize his father and his men secretly setting up explosives in Quistis' Garden. Despite all he knew of his father's past, it still shocked and appalled him. Was Joseph Atkins truly capable of murdering SeeDs?  
"My 'dvice to you is," he supplied coolly when no response came, "that ye'd better watch yer back."  
Bradley turned around and stood up. "And what if I felt like turning you over to the SeeDs? Aren't you afraid of that?"  
Joseph shook his head. "Aren't you afraid they'd be happier callin' ya a liar and arresting you instead?"  
He didn't answer, though anger and contempt flashed in his eyes.  
"Don't think that yer new girlfriend won't turn ya over. She is one of them above all else, y'know. Even if ya didn't do nuthin', they'll still point fingers at ya." He grasped his son's shoulder roughly. "Everything's gonna go down hill for ya, son, if ya keep tryin' to push me away. Why not join me and my men? We could use a boy with some quick wits."  
"No."  
"I ain't a murderer. I'm merely returning the favour."  
"They arrested you because of what you did to Grandon. It's called justice. You're lucky I didn't graduate from Galbadia. I would've had the privilege to hunt you down for the shameless criminal you are."  
His father's cruel grin became a sneer. "Laura really made sure ye've got yer rights and wrongs cleared, didn't she? But I know what ye're like. Ye're more like me. Think about what I said, Raddy." Before nodding to his men and walking away, he spun back. Bradley was caught off guard as his father harshly grabbed him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear, "Pretend this conversation never happened...If you don't, I might have to forget you're my son."  
And with that final word, he and his crew vanished into the morning fog.  
They left no trace of their coming, save the tension still charged in the air. He felt uneasy; it came from anger more than fear. Past hatreds had reemerged from the depths of his nightmares. His father had returned once again to ruin his life. It sickened him to think he shared the same blood as The Grandon Bomber.  
Yet that was not at the forefront of his thoughts. He had a sickening feeling that Joseph and his men's assault on Balamb Garden was far from complete. He had to stop them. But how?

* * *

Bradley was not the only one wracking his mind. Quistis had her own thoughts and troubles to ponder. She had slept a few hours only because she needed rest for the next day.  
Early in the morning, she had interviewed students who were close by a few hours before the explosion. She had asked them several questions: Did they see Bradley at the ship's aft? Did they see him with anything strange when he worked on the bridge's outer shell? She received a negative shake of the head for each.  
Then, after gathering a bit of courage, she looked inside the envelope Seifer gave them: the file about his brief problem with the law. No one was killed or hurt after the armoured boat sank. The ones who saw and reported the crime stated that Bradley, the youngest out of the four, barely did or touched anything. After that, she printed out the image of Bradley Squall found in the SeeD Criminal Files...It could be Mr. Atkins himself...or not. The image was filed as "ATKINS" but....something about the image rang a discordant note in Quistis' head. There was no mistaking the resemblance, yet, with the majority of the man's face in the image covered with wayward hair and swollen bruises, it was hard to be absolutely certain.  
By the time she finished looking through all the evidence, and compared it with hers, the fog had disappeared outside; it was an hour before sunset. Unfortunately, even with the morning and afternoon to mull over it, her investigation had uncovered more questions than answers. Either Bradley Atkins was a master criminal that left no evidence. Or he was being falsely accused because of his past and relations.  
Then it occurred to her. She stood up from half a day's work behind her desk. Her mind felt numb. The throb on the her temples blocked her mental processes. "I need a break!" she whispered to herself. As she was heading for the cafeteria, she realized it was not food she needed. She needed open air. She stepped out onto a green field through a massive gap on the ship's wall. It was the very place she and Bradley entered when they saw the Garden in trouble.  
She breathed in the fresh air slowly, and felt her muscles begin to calm. She suddenly remembered she was to meet Bradley hours ago. But she couldn't, not if the Garden's entire population were thoroughly convinced of his convicted felony. What she needed was more clues...more evidence. _Maybe I'm at the wrong place to look for answers._ The clues she had collected so far had all pointed to Dollet. She sighed; _If only I could go there now._  
Out of nowhere, a Balamb messenger came looping around a small hill. Since the system for distant communications were primarily in the bridge, the messenger was meant to go to nearby cities to hire mechanics, engineers and cleaners for the Garden's repairs. But, by what Quistis could see of the young girl's expression, she had another thing in mind to the tell the commander besides hiring news.  
"What is it?"she asked the messenger as soon as her motorcycle came to a halt.  
"There's gunfire at Dollet with a good number of men involved!" The messenger's voice squeaked with panic and fear. "I gotta go tell Commander Squall, he'll know what to do." Before passing through the gap, she turned and added, "...T-that's not the important thing, though." She looked down nervously at her uniform. "S-Someone said they saw the guy you were with, this Bradley Atkins guy. H-He was shooting too....like the rest of those thugs."  
The girl's message would leave no doubt that Bradley was the criminals' accomplice.....She couldn't understand why, but she herself was still not convinced. Perhaps it was from the resolve she found the previous night because she he suspected that something else was at work.  
She had to know the truth. And if Bradley was indeed innocent then she still needed to see him because his life was in great danger. Trusting only a hunch and her heart, she mounted the bike and sped towards Dollet.

* * *

"I couldn't find Quistis anywhere!" Selphie reported to Squall. "And Sandra's bike's missing too. She swore she left her it with Quistis."  
"That means she left," Squall responded. The almost-perpetual frown creased strongly in his forehead. "She couldn't be thinking of..."  
"Of helping Bradley? Well...." Selphie paused, then said, "If I loved Brad as much as I think Quisty does, I'd be after him right now, trying to squeeze some answers outta him."  
Rinoa scowled worriedly as a unnerving thought came to her. "Or help him with his cause."  
"...WHAT?!" Squall bellowed.  
Suddenly, she felt it wasn't such a good idea to speak her thoughts. "I-I'm just thinking....that if she really, really loves this guy, then maybe she won't really care if he's a criminal or not."  
"No way! That's not like Quistis!" Zell responded. "I know she gives a damn whether a guy's evil or not. Quistis would never think like that!"  
"Maybe not, but she still went after him," Irvine said. "By herself, I might add."  
"My, my," Selphie sighed. "She's been acting really rashly these days, hasn't she?"  
Irvine grinned. "It's love, man. It's love."  
"I don't give a damn if 'it's love.' She clearly disobeyed my orders and for that, she is going to get herself killed." Squall marched speedily to the door. "Get your gear ready, everyone. We're going after Quistis."  
"Er....don't you mean the criminals?" Zell pointed out.  
"Qusitis first. Everything else later. The people with Atkins are the same people who sabotaged Balamb Garden. We're going to get them back for ruining our Garden! And that's not even half of what's coming to them if they harm Quistis!"

* * *

"Damn!" He had been shot. It took a while for him to realise it. Blood seeped through the back of his right shoulder. It was a good thing he was left-handed. And it was a good thing he discarded the sling around it. But without the sling, the arm carrying the gun was also in pain. He could almost feel the broken bones dis-aligning again. There was an advantage to the outcome to his gun-shot wound, though. Compared to the mind-numbing pain of the gun-shot, the sting in his recovering, bandaged leg was not so bad. He was hiding underneath the stone bridge. Luckily it was a year of low tides; the stream came to below his knees. Joseph and his men were close by; he could hear their taunting voices somewhere near by.  
"C'mere, Raddy," one of his father's men jeered. "We promise we'll let ya see yer mama."  
"Yah, Raddy-boy," another one added. "Ya can tell 'er in 'ell yerself that ye both got killed by the same guy. Eh, Joseph!?"  
Bradley clenched painfully at the gun's handle. His fury almost blocking out the pain in his shoulder. It clouded his logic. He wanted to leap up and take back every dishonourable word spoken about his dead mother. The last one that spoke was one of the teenage boys that went to juvenile prison with him. The older man hadn't changed much in three years. If anything, he had become more sinister. His instincts were right when he suspected that Joseph's band was allied with the three that destroyed the SeeD tank three years ago.  
He couldn't just leap and shoot back. He was outnumbered and he had the disadvantage. Nearby, they were still taking blows to his and his mother's dignity. To block out the men's shouts, he berated himself in his mind about his plan. He should have known that following them to their hideout and attacking them from there was beyond insane. Didn't he warn himself before that attacking them in his current condition was a bad idea? Yet he had to do something. His instincts were flashing red-alert. It told him that they were concocting a finale for Quistis' poor Garden. Moreover, he had a restless feeling that they were going to act on their plan very soon. It was a stroke of miracle he was able to incapacitate two of them, but it didn't took long for the rest of them to chase after him. It almost seemed too simple, luring them out of their hideout. He knew Joseph was more cunning than that.

* * *

FLASHBACK:

"Really, Pop? Is that 'ow it goes? Can ya really outsmart 'em like that?"  
Joseph laughed and ruffled Bradley's unruly hair. "Sure, son! That's 'ow it is, y'know? Ya gotta do everythin' to win, 'pecially when it comes ta fightin.' If fightin' dirty's whot's it's gonna take to win, then fight dirty, I say!....But that ain't 'nuff."  
"It ain't?! What else's there, Pop? C'mon, tell me!"  
Bradley's father guffawed. "Ye sure ya wanna know, Raddy?"  
"Ya, Pop! I wanna fight jus' like you!"  
"Aaalrighty!" Joseph leaned in closer to his teenage son's ear. "The thing is....ya gotta have more'n one ace up yer sleeve, y'know? Tha' could mean, fer example...not lettin' yer opponent know ye've got a gun." He revealed the pistol hidden beneath his shirt. "Or..." He dramatically paused, and saw his son hold his breath, "havin' more'n one gun."  
"Huh? Ye don' have 'nother gun, Pop. Ye told me yerself."  
From his large, calf-length combat boots, his father deftly tugged and tossed another, smaller gun into his other hand. Bradley's gaped at his father, wide-eyed and impressed.  
"Hmmm...yer right, son. I did tell ya I had only one gun. Don't mean it true, boy."  
Bradley titled his head to one side, and pondered his father's words for a few seconds. Then slowly he said, "...So...ye gotta lie to win?"  
His father flung a large arm around his son. "Like I said: 'everythin' to win'!"

* * *

Ironically, he had his father to thank for surviving this battle. Joseph taught him the nuances of firing arms at sixteen, while Galbadia taught him the morality and ethics needed to use them. It took many suspensions and scolding from his instructors until it dawned on him that his father's philosophies were flawed. Very flawed. Downright heartless, in fact. Unfortunately it was too late and by then, he had committed a major crime.  
Bradley knew his father had something else in mind besides senseless violence. But what?  
His father's men were having a blast, literally and figuratively. In the midst of their verbal assualts, they were firing their Uzi's in wild abandon, thinking they could frighten him out of his hiding place. He was not afraid for his own life, but rather the lives of whoever would have the misfortune of meeting one of the multiple, random bullets. He had to bait them away from the city to a more secluded area.  
But how? He was in no condition to outrun a dozen men. He needed a better plan. Damn his weakness in strategic planning! It was the one class he had difficulties with when he was a Galbadia Garden student. What he needed more was help, but asking for that was as impossible as...say... summoning Ifrit without Junctioning with him first. No one else knew of his schemes to stop his father except him, and Joseph's men would shoot him down before he could even attempt to reach the authorities. Just when he was about to think the situation was utterly hopeless, a large and different commotion erupted from his assailants. "What the hell...?"  
"Shoot her down, you fools!" he heard Joseph bellow. Amidst his father's furious commands was the sound of wheels screeching, and the engine of a motorcycle. A second later the sound of a fast whip lashed through the air.  
Bradley swore under his breath, then quickly shook his head in denial. _No way! Never her. She can't be that reckless!_  
"Bradley!" Quistis shouted.  
His next swear word was covered by the blast from his pistol as he stood, turned and fired. His calculations proved accurate; he managed to shoot the man reaching for her arm as she circled around the outlaws on her bike.  
The gunshot caught Qusitis' attention. Without coming to a halt beside him, she hauled Bradley on to the vehicle by his arm as she drove the motorcycle through the stream. The bike's wheels tore through water at a relentless speed. She didn't slow down until Bradley's attackers were well out of sight.  
"We have to go back," Bradley yelled over the sound of the motorcycle. "They're going to attack Balamb Garden again. I'm sure of it!"  
In front of him, he saw Quistis give a negative shake of her head. "No, you can't do anything in the state you're in. We have to hide for now and think of a plan."  
Despite their dire situation he almost grinned. Perhaps summoning a Guardian Force without Junction was not impossible after all. Here he was with someone helping him. And better yet, it was a woman who could think of a plan better than any he could call forth in his foolish head. But the grin left as fast as it appeared. He was suddenly feeling a completely different emotion. "Dammit, do ye realise how styoopid tha' was!?!" he yelled through a thick accent.  
Quistis counted herself fortunate that Bradley couldn't see her face. Because she couldn't stop herself from smiling. She was right, the thickening of his accent revealed all of his emotions. If he was not injured so badly she would have gladly baited him back. Instead, she asked, "Can you think of anywhere around we can hide?"  
Bradley didn't respond for a moment. "...The Communications Tower. There's a hidden area there only I know of."  
  
_To be continued..._

**Author's Note: **Well, what did you think? Wow, it's been such a long time since I last posted a chapter. It's been --what? Almost a year, something like that, but I just HAVE to finish this story! No matter what, don't care if it takes another 2 years --knock on wood--! ...Can you tell the "gun scenes" were influenced by Viggo Mortensen's character in "Indian Runner" or is it just me??


	9. The Grandon Bomber

**Trust My Heart**  
by: Angel Wings Rinoa (Cathy-chan)  
  
**Chapter 9: The Grandon Bomber**  
  
Gunshots tore the night air of the peaceful city. The citizens watched in horror, rooted to the front of their doors or the back of their open windows, as they watched the violence of Dollet come back to life. Just as if they came back to a night ten years ago, a battle between authorities and a rebellious group broke out in the streets. Yet the SeeDs' opponents had no intention of justice for the common people. They wanted revenge, they wanted the SeeDs' blood. But revenge was not possible that night; outnumbered and cornered at the shore, what they needed was escape.  
"Where is it?"  
"T-T-That one," the man answered, pointing a shaking finger at a small fisherman's boat docked on a wooden platform.  
"Listen carefully and ye won't get killed," the man heard the person holding him instruct. "Ye're going to take me an' them," The gun left the man's temple for a second as the person holding it used it to point vaguely at the men over their shoulders, "as far 'way from here as possible. And if I don' see ye doin' what I told ye, the bullet in this gun's gonna have a nice new home. Understand?"  
The fisherman gulped and nodded.  
"Good."  
He was shoved on to the deck of his boat.  
"Now get this thing moving."  
"'Ey, boss," one of the farthest men called out.  
"What?"  
He looked around apprehensively before asking, "Where'd all the SeeDs go?"  
"Who cares!?" another man leaping aboard the ship answered. "They didn' catch us, right? S'all that matters. They must've...got lost 'r something."  
The dozen men left it to that. With all of them on the boat, the harrassed fisherman sped it through the waters.  
"Keep an eye out fer anythin'," their boss spoke. "If we get caught now we're never going to get our plan started. They're still out there. "  
"Ye sure, Joseph?"  
"Without a doubt. They've got sumthin' planned, I know it."  
"Heh, like what?...... 'Ey, 'ey, Jo. Chill! They're not plannin nuthin'! 'Sides, whatever it is, we've got sumthin' better up our sleeve." He fingered a black box with a trigger resting on top.  
Without warning, the men near the aft began to scream ravingly. Riotous gunfire pelted the sky like a mocked re-enactment of a fountain. They heard the stealth of steel as it cut through the air and into a screeching man. With each swoosh came the sound of bodies hitting the wooden deck.  
"All of these people just to protect that guy. Tsk." A voice sighed behind the corner of a wall. "What a waste."  
"Who's there!?" Joseph cocked his pistol and aimed it at the voice.  
"This isn't worth getting yourself killed, Atkins." A gunblade appeared followed by a man scarred on the face. He stepped forward, and revealed himself. The tip of his sword glinted and dripped red in the moonlight. His icy blue eyes scanned each of the men's faces. "...Where are you hiding him?"  
Joseph stepped forward with his arms up. But he wasn't surrendering. His gun was still firmly in his hand. "Hidin' who? I'm right here. Ye wanna fight me, boy?"  
The corner of the Gunblade Specialist's lips lifted in a sneer. "Don't make me laugh! I don't give a damn about what happens to you." He pointed his weapon straight forward, feet together in a unbent stance. "Hand your son over."  
"I don' know what yer talking 'bout! Bradley ain't with me." He waved his hand indefinitely to the shore. His arms were shaking a little. He cleared his throat before saying, "He's prob'ly still at Dollet with that SeeD chick."  
Slowly he formed an "x" in mid-air with his weapon. "Wrong answer."  
Joseph's men were shocked unawares as they suddenly heard their boss holler and fall to the floor, his knee's skin and bone pealed and cracked. It was chaos soon after. But not for the gunblade wielder. He slashed each man one by one without faltering.  
He was at the last man standing when the boat took a sudden swing backwards.  
A few feet from the boat's fore, Leviathan emerged from the waters. Its scales undulated and shone as it circled the boat. Not too far away an armoured Balamb SeeD boat roared and hovered across the waves.  
The gunblade wielder tightened his hold furiously at his weapon. "Squall."  
On his feet, Joseph was hollering. Amidst the cries of the sea dragon, the gunblade wielder could hear him shouting and pleading with the same words over and over again in insane desperation.  
"No, no!! Get that GF away from me! Leave me alone! Make it go away!"  
The armoured boat stopped beside them. As the automatic side-doors were opened, Leviathan was called back by Selphie. She was the second to jump on to the fisherman's boat after Squall.  
"...What happened here?" her green eyes widened with horror at the opaque liquid coating the deck. "Who could have done this...?"  
Their Commander's eyes were ice-cold and threatening. "Seifer," he spoke in a menacing, quiet voice.  
The object of his hatred didn't react. He knelt down and wrenched the criminals' leader off the floor. "Where is he? Where's Bradley!?"  
Joseph had changed to a totally different man. He was squirming within Seifer's grasp, muttering to himself. His eyes fixed at where the sea dragon had appeared.  
"No....stop him. Get him away from me...Not again! Not again!!...Monster!........_Monster_!!"  
"What's the matter with him?" Selphie asked Zell.  
"Must be Guarphobia," he replied.  
"....What?"  
"Y'know! He has a specific phobia of Guardian Forces."  
"...There's such a thing as that?"  
"Yep. Very rare though, the phobia. 'Cause it's very rare for a GF to go berserk. The phobia comes from extremely traumatic exposures to one or more GFs."  
Selphie smiled. "Thank you for enlightening me, Mr. Know-It-All."  
Zell gave her a thumbs-up. "No prob!"  
Seifer was still shaking Joseph angrily. "Tell me where Bradley Atkins is!"  
Joseph continued muttering, oblivious to everything but the threat of the GF reappearing.  
He raised Hyperion to the man's neck. "Tell me!"he shouted, tremors racked his body from a building rage.  
Squall grabbed the fist holding Seifer's gunblade. "Stop. He's not going to answer you."  
Everyone behind Squall gasped as Seifer plunged his sword one inch from Joseph's ear. He yanked Hyperion out of the wood-work, then began pacing the bloodied floor.  
Amazingly, the petrified man didn't even twitch; nothing could shake him out of his stupor.  
"Joseph Atkins, you're under arrest for the homocide of Grandon and Grandon Garden's population. And for assisting in the destruction of Balamb Garden. You will be taken to Desert Prison for questioning and..." The commander's voice trailed off. He sighed, it was hopeless stating the man's crimes and rights when he felt nothing whatsoever for his knee. Just taking a quick glance at it made his stomach churn.  
"Move out of the way!" Seifer bellowed and shoved at the shaken fisherman. With all of his concentration bent on the shores of Dollet, he manuevered the boat at neck-breaking speed -or as fast as a fisherman's boat could go.  
What the hell...? "What do you think you're doing?" Squall marched forward and pulled at his arm, shouting a hands-breadth away from his ear. "We've got him. Stop this boat right now!"  
Seifer jerked his arm away. "...Where are you, Bradley?" he grumbled to himself. "You're not getting away from me..."  
He was a man obsessed. The boat barely touched the sandy shore when Seifer jumped away and sprinted to the city.  
_What's gotten into him?_ Squall thought, bewildered.

* * *

"I'm tellin' ye, I didn't kill 'em!" Joseph roared from the corner of the van.  
The commander decided to keep him tied to the vehicle's supports until they hand him over to the Prison authorities. He was the only man, beside the fisherman, that still breathed air after Seifer's attack. Of course, the Ex-Knight could have easily killed him if he felt Joseph had no valuable information about Bradley. Squall commanded his SeeDs to spread out in groups of two, find where Quistis and Bradley were hiding and -well, of course, arrest The Grandon Bomber's son, but as for Ms. Trepe....they could decide on the event that they find her. As for the Ex-Knight himself, Squall had a good mind to arrest him for homocide too. However, the fisherman testified for him, saying if Seifer had not shown, he had a strong feeling that the criminals would have shot him at the arrival of their destination.  
"Are ye thick-'eaded SeeDs listenin' to me!? I said I–!"  
Irvine banged a fist on the metallic seat and shouted back at the shackled man. "Shut up, will ya? We heard, we heard!" He turned to the commander. "Jeez, Squall! Can't you let me gag this asshole?"  
"I've told you, we need him to talk," he answered evenly. The notorious bomber kept bellowing that he was innocent. The commander placed a hand on his poor, throbbing temple and asked, "How did it go?"  
"Pretty well. Turns out my gut feelings're right. I have seen Seifer and Bradley together before." He fished out a collection of papers the pig-tailed librarian and Zell helped him put together. "Thanks to Mr. Know-It-All and the librarian, I got the logs and reports from Galbadia Garden."  
Squall skimmed through the papers. "When's this from?"  
"Three years ago."  
"And you saw the two together?"  
Irvine twisted his mouth to one side and made a small, thoughtful sound. "...Wouldn't say they were 'together' together. You know?"  
"No." Squall's migraine was becoming stronger; the constant clamour coming from their prisoner coupled with Irvine's ill-defined statements were not helping. "Please explain."  
"They didn't like each other, that's for sure. Fuujin and Raijin were not chumy with Rad either. But they didn't hate each other, I don't think. Just a mutual erm....dismissal. Oh yah!" He clapped loudly and made Squall wince. "I think I remember what Rad's like back then. Wasn't very loud or wild.....and he was short....smart......I think.....Yep, for sure smart. He was always carrying a thick book. Other than that, I can't remember what his face looked like, but I remember he hanged out with 'em rowdy ones." He looked up at he ceiling of the van, as if he could find his memories lodged underneath a nut or screw. "...Think Seifer and his posse were sent by Headmaster Cid to 'oversee' the SGS class. A few, particular future GF Specialists were gettin' very rowdy –y'know, the ones Rad hanged out with." Irvine rested his black, leather boots on the adjacent seat. He chuckled. "SGS was right next to triple 'S' so I used to drop by their class. I had a few laughs with 'em.They were _really_ rowdy, you know? Definitely way too rowdy for Martine and those jittery seniors at Galbadia."  
Squall was now certain his migraine had ruined his brain because he couldn't understand some of the cowboy's words. Futilely, he glowered and asked. "......What?"  
"You know, 'rowdy' as in– " Irvine realised what made his leader puzzled. "Oh! Sorry!"  
He laughed himself silly, as Squall waited patiently, before explaining.  
"SGS is Specialized Guardian Force Studies. And SSS is Specialized Sharpshooter Studies. It was one of those 'innovative' courses only a handful of Gardens like Galbadia and Grandon decided to participate in seven years ago. Didn't last very long, though. Specially SGS."  
"Why not?"  
"Something 'bout some of the Gardens' style being too inhumane for the Guardian Forces....It wasn't that bad in Galbadia though, at least from what I saw of their training. I heard from one of the SGS students that they had an interesting time going around the world, analysing and uncovering live and extinct GFs."  
Irivne was interrupted by the loud thumping of Mr. Atkin's rubber boots on the metallic floor. The loud noise was apparently directed at Squall. "'Ey! Tell 'em Desert Prison guys that I didn't kill all those Grandon people! 'Ey!!"  
BANG, BANG, BANG!  
Squall's fingers massaged either side of his brow. He ignored (rather tried to ignore) their prisoner as he continued to talk to Irvine. "...And what does this have to do with Mr. Atkins?"  
"Y'mean him?" He cocked a thumb at their captive.  
"Yes...I mean no. No, the other Mr. Atkins."  
"Isn't it obvious?"  
"If it was would I be asking you?" Squall replied exasperatedly.  
He shrugged casually. "Guess not." He flipped his hat from side to side, while clinking the tip of his shotgun on the wall behind him.  
"Can you please stop that?"  
"Huh?"  
"What you're doing. Stop that."  
"Sorry, Squall." He flipped the Stetson deftly back on his head, and planted his feet on the floor. "So like....are you okay, man? You don't look so hot."  
"I'll be fine."  
He grinned. "Miffed at seeing Seifer again, aren't you?"  
"No. Can you continue with what you were saying?"  
"No problemo............Where was I?"  
"Irvine!"  
He raised his palms up in mocked surrender. He grinned sideways. "All right. Sorry! God, Squall. You need to relax. Bet being away from Rinoa's tightenin' you up. Hehehe–! Sorry. Lower your gunblade, man. Relax. I was about to tell you."  
His grin made Squall dubious he was 'sorry' about anything.  
"As I was saying..." He replaced his boots on the seat. "So like...Bradley was in the SGS class. The reports said that they went on a field trip to Grandon Garden, and Seifer and his posse went with 'em."  
He suddenly forgot his migraine. "Mr. Atkins was there when the Garden exploded?"  
"Which one?"  
"Both of them."  
"Yep." Irvine dropped his feet on the floor, leaned his tall form on his knees and whispered, "That's not all too. There's more to it."  
Squall shifted to a position similar to Irvine's. He made a gesture with his hand for Irvine to proceed.  
"All right. So me, Zell and the librarian were searchin' for tidbits 'bout Rad, right? When we were searching for anything and everything about the day Grandon was destroyed, we found an odd account from a little kid who was there when the Garden and city exploded. He was a junior at Grandon."  
"Wait a minute. I thought there were no survivors."  
"The kid claimed he was, but he's really small, not even seven yet. Nobody payed attention to what he said until he moved and got himself enlisted to Trabia Garden. Then somebody saw an essay he wrote and took some notice –well, not much. But enough for it to be published somewhere in the back of a Trabia Newsletter."  
"What was his essay about?"  
Irvine smiled. "'Bout the explosion at Grandon, silly."  
"I knew that! I meant what did it say?"  
"Hmmm...." he snatched the sheaf of papers near Squall. He leafed through it for a while.  
Silence.  
"Ah! There it is!" He pointed at a windy paragraph in the middle of a page. "Read that."  
Squall did a quick perusal of the summary. Then he had to read it again. His eyes widened. Slowly he said, "Wait, this says that–"  
"'EY!!!"  
He dropped the papers on the floor, startled and interrupted by the noises Joseph were making by kicking the nearest seat.  
"Will you shut up!?" Squall roared viciously.  
"I'm tellin' ya! I couldn' 'ave killed 'em 'cause I'd no explosives with me then. I only got 'em bombs when I joined with the other guys. And I didn' know 'ow to Junction with _that_! 'Ow could I!? I thought they didn' exist!"  
It was now the commander making all the commotion. As speedily as the rocking of the van would allow him, he moved to the front of the van and banged repeatedly on the seperation between the passengers and the driver.  
"'Ey– I mean hey!" Squall called out to the lower ranking SeeD. His shout was amazingly the loudest of the three passengers. Both Mr. Atkins and Irvine gaped at him, open-mouthed and speechless.  
The SeeD was flabbergasted. "...Y-Yes, Commander?"  
"Have they found where Seifer is?"  
"I...I think so, sir. Ms. Tilmitt was on the com a few minutes ago, telling me she and Mr. Dincht thought they saw Mr. Almasy and two other people head for the Communications Tower."  
"That's where we're going."  
"Sir?"  
"You heard me. To the Communications Tower."  
"B-But w-what about?" his head turned uncertainly to their captive.  
"He's coming along.....Why're you looking behind you? I said MOVE IT!"  
"Y-Yes, sir! I'm very–!"  
"And don't say 'sorry.' I've heard too many of those already."  
  
_To be continued..._

**Author's Note:** Hehehe, I just realised the thing's called "Communications Tower" not "Statellite Station." :P Well I fixed that. I think I got the names mixed up from another FF game.


	10. I am Quistis

**Trust My Heart**  
by: Angel Wings Rinoa (Cathy-chan)  
  
**Chapter 10: I Am Quistis**  
  
Quistis stood just outside the obscured passage Bradley had shown her. The world was reawakening before her. Over the cliff, she saw the sun's brilliance reborn again, as it was emerging from the grey-blue waters of the ocean.   
More had awaken in the dawn than merely the sun.   
She had made certain that their journey had not been tracked. Step by step, she had done an extensive version of the SeeD Field Procedure, a standard operation for high-ranking seeds to undertake in a field mission. She thought it was rather ironic to be utilizing the method when she had disrespected the first and indispensable rule: SeeD personnels must act in accordance to the instructions of the commanding and/or higher ranking officer. She shook her head wryly at the thought of Squall: _after all that time I instilled the rules on _him_..._ She could almost see the look on the commander's face when he found that she had ran away with a supposed criminal.   
Staying away from Bradley was necessary for the Garden and the rules' sake, but not for hers. Leastways, in her mind it didn't. Anyone could say she was endangering herself. That it was not worth risking her life for a man she barely known a couple of days, one who was suspected of a major vice. But she had grown weary of complying to other people's counsel, and obeying other people's rules.   
What about her necessities, what she needed? What about complying to the yearnings of her heart instead of the demands of others? For far too long, people told her what to do, what to say, who to be and how to live her life.   
No more.   
No more tears. No more regrets and disappointments. The solution to all of her letdowns was so simple it nearly made her hysteric with laughter...or weeping...she couldn't tell which. It was her life. Hers alone. No one else's. Not anymore. She was not SeeD nor Ex-Instructor Trepe –that was what she did and had done.   
_I am Qusitis Trepe._   
After taking a moment to watch the sunrise, she entered a large tear in the thin, metal wall. Curtained by vines and the dominating shadow of the Communications Tower, no one could see the tear unless they knew where to find it. A peculiar phenomenon about the tower's wall had been overlooked for several decades. Bradley had merely come across it by happenstance in his early teenage years (The most important discoveries are always found by accident! he had told her as cheerily as his injuries would allow him. Though it wasn't painless. My ol' clumsiness had its good and bad points.): between the dent and the inner wall was a path circling the outer circumference of the building. What was truly unsual was the difference in shape of the outer wall in comparison to the inner one. Beginning from the dent, the gap between the two walls was barely big enough to fit an adult person, but after a few feet or so, the outer wall straightens, thus the gap widens to a small enclosure. A civil skirmish involving old warring nations had demolished a section of the ceiling long ago. Daylight streamed from it onto Bradley's sleeping form.   
Straight away at leaning his back on the mould-covered wall he fell asleep...or did he pass out? The latter was most likely true. Quistis didn't need to feel his injuries for herself to know that he must have felt excruciating pain. When (or if) she came back to Balamb Garden, she was going to shower Dr. Kadowaki with kisses for coercing her to undergo assistant nurse lessons. Bradley's life would have bled to the floor if the good doctor had not taught her how to stop the bleeding. She would have been more at ease if he was in the care of the expert physician. But she didn't want to risk meeting Bradley's attackers again. Moreover he was in no condition to travel. Hence she bandaged his wounds to the best of her abilities. She had to tear Bradley's shirt piece by piece to cover all of the blood. After re-bandanging his leg wound, she had found that the exertion at Dollet had re-opened it. It was unbelievable he didn't pass out much earlier.   
Cold sweat ran down his forehead, his face contorted in anguish. _Is he getting a fever?_ As she took off her gloves and wiped the sweat with her bare hands, his eyes swept open.   
She was startled as Bradley snatched her wrist. No! You're not him! You're not _him_! he was directing a frantic, desperate fury and despair at a non-existent person in front of him. He was shouting the words as it could make the image behind his eyes go away.   
Bradley, it's okay! It's me.   
His death-grip on her wrist slackened. His eyes focussed on her shocked and worried face. I...I'm sorry, he mumbled as he let go of her. The direction of his eyes went to every direction except into hers. He chuckled unsteadily and said, S'rry. Th'boogies, y'know? Still distracted by the nightmare he added, Always there in my sleep... Quistis saw the flicker of ruefulness in his eyes. So...eh....how long was I   
Not too long. You slept through the rest of the night, she anwered. She gazed at him for a while in concern then finally asked kindly and softly, ...Who's   
Again his eyes darted to directions other than to her face. No one, he said almost incoherently. He couldn't manage to force himself to laugh again. Out of frustration at the phantoms still haunting his eyes, he balled his hand into a fist and slammed it hard on the wall behind him. A stab of pain shot through his whole body. He tried to reach behind him to one of the sources.   
Don't move too much. You don't want to open that wound too. She gently lowered his arms, and laid him back against the wall. She stroked his arm tenderly and lightly. Just rest. It's a miracle you didn't die last night.   
Aye. Miracle, he grumbled through his teeth. He was breathing slowly and evenly through his nose while his entire body trembled with supressed rage. She could see that he was forcing an inner dragon back.   
...I'm going to see if there's anything here we can eat. If you need anything, just call me, okay? She straightened up and looked at him sadly one last time before walking away.   
  
Quistis searched for edible berries on the grounds surrounding the Communications Tower. She found a few that weren't withering from the approach of autumn. She left Bradley's side knowing he wanted to be alone to control his demons for a moment. She herself had demons lurking within the shadows of her past, but it felt small in comparison to the anger and desperation within his. What did he see? Who or what was hurting him so badly?   
Just when her brain was mulling over a possible answer, the man occupying her thoughts rustled through the vines. There was a cold and livid tinge surfacing beneath his tan, and a frailty stealing the hardness in his muscles. Her hands flew to her mouth when he came close to falling face first on the uneven ground.   
Naturally, she blurted out her honesty in a rush of dismayed anger. What in the world are you doing walking about!? Stop this and go back inside. Now!   
But all of her bossiness couldn't provoke an answer. He didn't even acknowledge her presence. It was strange; even while enduring the most tormenting moments of his injuries, he still took notice of her with a small grin or an encouraging nod. Every step he took was a battle to stay upright.   
She stopped drifting towards him when a quick breeze revealed his still face.   
A scream was lodged in her throat. For the first time in her life, she was truly, deathly afraid. His face never moved or flinched as his leg wound began to bleed and re-open. He looked like a corpse possessed, a dead man walking. The storm in his bluish-green eyes was summoning a dragon slumbering beneath the sea.   
Distantly, Quistis heard a sound. At first she thought she was imagining it. But the sound came again, this time louder and directly above them. It sounded like some kind of large creature. She felt her heart contract with pity, at the same time as her body froze with fear. It sounded furious...but sad....unbearably sad.   
She turned to look at Bradley and saw his eyes crying out the same sorrow.   
The creature cried out a third time. There was something different about its call. She lowered her eyes in time to see Bradley was one step away from the precipice. Arms outstretched to the sea, he lifted his bound leg to take the next stride.   
Panicking, Quistis did the only thing she could think of doing: as loud as her vocal chords could suffer she shouted his name.   
His body spasmed, then stiffened   
Quistis bounded to him as he fell. She caught his taller heavier form, thanking her fortune he had fallen sideways, not forward. She placed him on the ground as carefully as his weight and her strength would allow.   
She brushed away the long bangs covering his sweat-covered, cold face after lying his head on her lap. Aside from the blood running down his leg, he looked as if he never left the concealed niche. She gazed across the sea to the cloudless horizon. Her breath came fast, the fingers on his forehead were shaking.   
She had wanted to know Bradley more; to know the other sides of his personality. Apparently she just did. She had been introduced to his dragon.   
  
You four! Keep up!   
Dun worry. the oldest one answered. We were born near here remember? I'd be more worried about yer sorry arse. They say a huge dragon lives in these woods.   
Ooooh, sceewwiiie! the two boys beside him howled in unison.   
The senior student's face boiled instant red. D-Don't make me report you to Headmaster Martine!   
Tha' stiff-arse twit?the oldest of the four scoffed. Ooh, whot's he gonna do? Spank me? Soak me poor, shitty uniform in his poor, shitty wine!?   
The comrades roared with laughter and hooting cheers. They did a mocked dramatization of the headmaster spanking the oldest student.   
Ow! Tha' he squealed tauntingly as he watched the senior tsk' in disapproval and walk away.   
Before he was too far away, the senior thought to have the last word. You no-good-Galbadian jerks are worthless, he spat. Ya hear that!? Worthless! You couldn't summon Tonberry King if you defeated 54 of his minions! Don't know why Headmaster Martine would every let your lot be accepted into SGS. And don't think nobody's going to hear about this. The tempestuous senior sniffed proudly, pivoted and stomped off. As he did so, they could hear him mutter, Where are those Balamb jerks? They're suppose to be taking care of these jerks! They better not be slacking because–because I'm gonna.......Why me? Why...   
Pah! Grandonians. Think they're so ot cause their Garden's so new an' shiny. I ope someone would blow their blewdy Garden up so they get whot's coming to them! He flipped the middle finger at the retreating senior.   
Ey, don't talk like that. Nobody deserves that, the fourth one chided. He was the youngest boy and the only one of the four that didn't participate in his friends' entertainments.   
Aye, The oldest one chuckled. He poked the other boy smartly on the forehead. Says the brat who's got his head stuck in Guardian Forces: from Ice to Needles'.   
The youngest one shook his head vehemently. No way! My head ain't stuck in this! he waved the incredibly thick and wordy book to the older boy. How can I? It's so innacurate! From Ice to Needles'? Please! There's more to Guardian Forces than Shiva and Cactuar. He glanced down at his shoelaces. Twas the only book in the library detailed nuff for an interestin' read.   
The older boy raised an eyebrow. ...Ye some kind of expert now?   
N-No!......At least not yet.   
Raddy, Raddy, Raddy... the oldest one sighed. When are ye gonna learn that GFs are not for studying? They're for using. Ye use em. There's no dif tween a Gunblade Specialist from a GF Specialist. He sniggered and poked the other two with his elbows. Actually there is. Ours stink when ye let em out.   
The two answered with nods and obnoxious laughter.   
The youngest one scowled sourly. C'mon, guys. Ye must've realised that Guardian Forces are extraordinary and amazing creatures by now. Haven't you learned anything from SGS?   
Nope. Not much dif between a fossil we found near Shumi Village to nother one we found at Chocobo Forest –those tests are so tricky and useless, eh?– But I'm still passin' with flying colours cause I know ow to make the live ones obey. I got yer father to thank fer that. He taught me well. The older boy laughed cruelly.   
The image of the boy's father flashed before his eyes. _You Galbadian students're too soft on yer GFs. In Grandon, they really teach ya ow to make em styoopid things work._   
The boy had watched his father's lesson to his friend. Grandon's expertise lay in training SeeDs how to GFs. From what the young boy observed, Grandon's technique was very simple: during the battle to test one's worthiness to acquire the GF, the Grandon SeeDs cast extremely torturous Magic at the creatures several times until it yields, and agrees to do whatever the SeeD command it. It was simple, but it made him sick. It made him had nightmares of screaming things.   
One day, soon after, he saw his father using the same technique. It was late one night at their home and he heard loud noises coming from the backyard. The young boy hid behind the screen door. His father kept hitting and scoffing at the screaming form below him until he was given complete obedience. Except the form was no GF, but the anguished screams were the same....   
The young boy wanted to cry out...   
  
No! Not him! Not true!   
Bradley! Bradley!   
He saw a blurry figure: a golden-haired, young woman, then, a few minutes later, an impression of something tall, mouldy...and rusted. Slowly his mind re-sharpened a little more, and with it came the outpour of aches and pains all over his body, the foremost and strongest being the one in his leg.   
Are you all right? You were calling out in your sleep again.   
A dream....? It didn't feel like a dream; it felt more like a memory. Yes, it was definitely a memory. The day his Specialized Guardian Force Studies class went to the outskirts of Dollet was imprinted clearly in his mind. It was the day he tripped on a pebble and fell bottom first into a small cave. Poking out of its dry, dusty earth were the remains of an ancient GF that looked like an ancestor of Bahamut...or Leviathan...maybe both. Though it was far larger than the two combined.   
But what about the image of his father hitting–?   
No! It can't be. He'd never... he blurted out before realising he spoke out loud.   
He'd never' what? Who are you talking about?   
Nuthin'. Jus' a dream, like ye said, he mumbled. Just a dream... he mouthed to himself, still unconvinced.   
Then he really noticed Quistis and he blushed. ...Where's yer shirt?   
Quistis turned as pink as her lacy, rose-adorned bra, which was too revealing for her (and his) comfort. I...I couldn't find anything else to staunch your wounds. Even with most of her torso exposed, she was still able to look infuriated and autocratic. You almost bled to death –again!– thanks to your...your antics!   
Glancing around his body, Bradley found half of her sleeveless, orange-pink shirt around his leg, and the other half wrapped around the top of his arm. He looked at her quizzically.   
You know. Walking about, scaring me half to death by nearly falling off the cliff?   
Bradley was silent and perplexed.   
...Don't you....don't you remember what happened? When he continued to wear a confused look, she became uneasy. She wrapped her arms around her belly. Then, in a wary and careful voice, said, You –I don't know what you were doing precisely, but you were....I couldn't believe you could still stand up and walk! There was this...this thing that called out....It all felt so tense....and chilling.   
I...I don't remember any of that. I remember falling asleep after you went outside again. He frowned hard, going through the events in his head. But his mind kept coming back to his father hitting– Then more calmly, No, I...I really can't remember.   
Quistis looked blankly at a spot behind his head. She inhaled a deep breath. ...That's all right. Besides, what matters more is that you recover. Oh. Here. I almost forgot about these. She picked up the berries clustered on her lap. Eat. It'll help you get stronger.   
Bradley nodded, but he didn't move further. She saw that he was distancing himself. He was holding back from her; more so than he had done the previous times. He was looking down at his hands, his body still. She could understand if there were personal things that were too deep to divulge, but now he was keeping _everything_ back. It was starting to irritate her. In a louder, angrier tone she repeated her command, Eat! I'm not going to have you shrivel on the spot.   
The tone of her voice snapped him out of his daze.   
Open your mouth.   
  
Now please.   
I can do it myself–!   
Her gaze lashed as sharply at him as her whip. _Now_ please.   
He grunted. Slowly and crabbily he opened his mouth. Quistis popped a berry in it.   
You can hardly lift a finger let alone an entire hand. Now chew.   
Don't have to tell me that. It's in, see? Aaah. he growled peevishly, his tongue stained in bright, purple juices.   
Quistis bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. Wouldn't do for an authoritarian to suddenly giggle. Better. I'm going to help you eat all of these. She added snappishly: And I mean all! I'll be making sure you eat -every- -little- -piece-. And don't even think about moving or trying to stand up. I don't have any more clothes to wrap your foolishness in.   
He blew a grumpy snort through his nose. She dropped two more into his mouth. As he chewed, he said sarcatisally, Oh, absolutely. Then after a blink of his eyes, to her amazement, his lips lifted on one side to crooked grin. His eyes strayed mischievously to her remaining piece of substantial clothing. Heaven forbid ye use yer skirt. I would not want ye deprived of that, milady.   
She was left without words for an instant. Then, coolly, she leaned close to him, placed a hand on his thigh, and purred smoothly, Or I could use your pants. Has more material, after all.   
Bradley gulped the two berries in. After that, Quistis had no problem feeding him the fruits.   
  
Quistis awoke sharply, her heart hammering and tense. She looked about, but found nothing that could have disturbed her sleep. Beside her on the wall, Bradley snored soundly and peacefully away from his hurts. It was the first time he had slept without stirring or talking. She attributed his quiet slumber proudly to the nourishment she him to eat before they both dozed off from fatigue. But she was in no mood to reminisce; her senses were troubled. She had no doubt that something jolted her conscious. Blood pumped through her body fast, demanding more air in preperation for an unseen danger.   
So far her intuition had proven true and firm. It was time to test its loyalty again. Furtively she stood up and skimmed her fingers on the whip wrapped around her waist. With cautious and deliberate steps she entered the path exiting the walls. The light fleeting below the thick vines hinted orange before dimming into dull violet. Evening had come. Outside, she could hear nothing but the breeze playing lazily with dirt and leaves. Around her body, she heard the loose dust being blown aside as the thumping of her laborous heart counted the long seconds she stood listening.   
Nothing disrrupted the hush of the breeze..._so far_, she warned herself. Counting to three, she unfolded her leather weapon, swept the vines apart and strode forward into the dying sunlight.   
A zephyr cooled her exerted, flushed face, and a chickadee chirped a tiny song.   
Nothing.   
She was about to chide herself as a ridiculous woman giving in to notions of paranoia when her ear caught the sound a minute, metal click. She looked about, angry at herself for not marking its exact location. Nevertheless, she had identified what made the sound. She had been near its two wielders too much to fail recognizing the weapon. Thus its keeper could only be two people, and to her, neither one was good news. She was berating herself again. This time it was for not being distrustful enough. Now whoever stood away from her sight knew her whereabouts. Moreover, if he had a good view, she had also betrayed the secret passage to her companion.   
Seifer or Squall, she didn't care. She didn't give a damn whether they used words, rules or weapons against her either. No one, not even one of the gunblade specialists of Balamb Garden, was going to take Bradley away from her. She was Quistis. She knew what she wanted, what she needed.


	11. Justice

**Trust My Heart**  
by Angel Wings Rinoa (Cathy-chan)  
  
**Chapter 11: Justice**  
  
"Are you absolutely sure this time?" He looked up to the jagged, sloping hill blocking the view of the Communication Tower, his eyes aloof but burning with a certain task.  
"AFFIRMATIVE," a female answered.  
"The Balamb bike's right there. Took a long while to find too," his male comrade supplied, pointing to a thick nestle of bushes where they found the smoking pile that was once a motorcycle. He took a deep breath and said reluctantly, "We wanna go with you, ya know?"  
"I know, Raijin. Don't even think of following me."  
"But that's what you said before," he argued. "You need our help, ya know!?"  
"No, I don't need any help."  
"Fuujin..." moaned to his partner.  
She shook her head, then directed her gaze to their leader. Fuujin's exposed, pale eye bespoke acceptance. "GO."  
Seifer gave his two friends a casual salute before dashing up the ascending spiral of the mountain path. Hyperion was loaded and primed for a battle.  
"We'll be down here if you need any help. Don't forget, ya know?" Raijin exclaimed before he was completely out of sight.  
He would not forget, he would merely disregard the fact. He needed no one, and he certainly didn't want anyone to touch the bomber, but him. He paid no mind to the beauty of the sun silhouetting Dollet's peaceful form nor his posse's warning that they caught a glimpse of Selphie and Zell not too far away. If the act was done quickly and silenty, less questions would be asked consequently. The memory of Grandon's people starved for justice. As for himself: he needed resolve.  
There was movement when he arrived behind a natural formation of a rock wall, a dozen feet from the tower. Next he saw Quistis advanced out of a tear in the tower's wall, her whip clasped bravely in her hand. Her head turned to every corner and crevice, as if expecting his presense.  
He felt like shouting his lungs out and banging his skull on the rocks. Again, his task was hindered by SeeD. Not only was Bradley with someone, he was also with someone who anticipated his ambush.  
No matter. He would have his justice. He had several ways of making a SeeD cease to be an obstacle. Without taking his eyes off the deterrent woman, he clicked Hyperion's saftey off.  
"Come out. I know you're there," Quistis said to the tall, rock formation in front of her.  
"Well, well. If it isn't Ex-Instructor Trepe." Seifer sprang to the wall's top surface. "Still hung up on your new fling, I see."  
The hand holding the whip tensed. "He's not a fling."  
Seifer grinned venomously. "No? Funny. Your half-naked state's contradicting your words." He let out a loud, unkind laugh. "Did he make you believe he was innocent when he laid with you in," He glanced around quickly and corrected himself, "on some dirty ground somewhere?"  
He caught the impression of a black blur before feeling a sting on his cheekbone. The straight, deep cut was a finger-width's away from his left eye. Another blur, and his lip bled. He blocked the third blow. The whip tore his sleeve into shreds.  
"Wow!" Seifer exclaimed mockingly. "He must've really made you 'believe'!"  
He was astonished to see Quistis' eyes too bright and shimmering.  
Seifer grunted and wiped the blood dripping from his lip. "He's not worth it, Quistis." He jumped down and raised his gunblade at Quistis. "You don't know who you're protecting."  
"Don't tell me what to do," she spat in a harsh, breathless whisper.  
  
For a quarter of an hour, Raijin kept glancing to Seifer's direction, the muscles on his brawny legs twitching to sprint. "He's been acting real insane lately, ya know? Aagh! Don't get it! Why's he so bent on this Bradley guy?"  
"GRANDON," Fuujin asnwered.  
"Hmmm...guess he thinks he has a lot to make up for, eh?"  
Fuujin nodded sadly. "...YES."  
"W-Well you know I don't like just waiting around. It's annoying, ya know? Can't we go up and uh....check if he's doing okay?"  
"NO."  
"But–!"  
Fuujin marched confidently forward and kicked him on the shin. "NO."  
"Yaaaaooow!!" Raijin squawked. "That hurt, ya know!?"  
She raised an eyebrow at her partner, shaking her head. Then shortly: "SEED!"  
"Whu–?"  
She spun him around and cranked his head to the spiralling path up the hill. "SEED!!"  
A van screeched and stopped directly at the path. Four SeeDs jumped out of the vehicle. The tallest one of them dragged a sandy-haired man behind him.  
Raijin smacked his forehead furiously. Him and his comrade dashed to them, their weapons ready. "Oh, SeeD!! Hey!" he shouted, halting in front of them. "Stop right there, ya know?"  
"Get out of the way," Squall stated.  
"No. Seifer'd say you'd be coming. So we're here to stop you. Right, Fuujin?"  
"AFFIRMATIVE," she raised her sharp, circular weapon above her elbow.  
Irvine snorted and tapped his shotgun on his hat. The infamous Grandon Bomber dangled from his other hand, gagged (to the cowboy's satisfaction) and bound. "So like....you wanna take all four of us on?"  
"If that's what it takes, yah!"  
  
Quistis dove in time to avoid Seifer's Firaga. Without a GF Junctioned to her or Magical items, she had nothing but her whip to retaliate with. As she dove and slid on the dusty, rocky ground, she wrapped her whip's end around her opponent's neck and she pulled hard, sending him chin first to the ground. She strode purposefully to him, her eyes wild with fury. Below her, Seifer laughed softly to himself, "Well done, Ex-Instructor."  
She pulled harder on the whip. "That's Ms. Quistis Trepe, Ex-Knight."  
"Well done," he said again. Away from her vision, he used swept Hyperion low on the ground and caught her heels. He tugged the leather weapon off his neck and stood up. He had switched who held the control, he was now the one looking down at her, both the whip and gunblade in his hands. "Well done, but you and I both know you can't stop me. Take me to him. Now."  
Quistis raised herself on her knees; she glared at him maliciously.  
"Still protecting him, are you?" He raised Hyperion on to his shoulder. "Do I have to remind you who's in charge, Qusitis? That was not a request."  
Her glare did not waver. Angrily she spat on her boots.  
The gunblade's tip hovered closer to her face. He laughed again; but it sounded empty and anxious. "Hah!....What!? You're going to die for this...this con bomber?"  
She didn't answer. She didn't need to.  
Seifer raised his weapon on his shoulder. He tapped Hyperion's blunt edge on the nape of his neck, while he rummaged through his mind for another tactic.  
"Boss!" Raijin called out, charging up the path. Fuujin trailed behind him.  
"I thought I told I didn't need any help!" Seifer spat.  
"They're here, ya know? Squall and the others. We couldn't hold them back. They're comin' up."  
_Squall's again in my way!_ Seifer thought. _But I'm so close! Bradley has to be here._ On its own, his mind flashed back to an image of Quistis appearing out of a hole in the metal wall.  
"Fuujin!"  
"YES?"  
"Do you have Pandemona with you?"  
"YES."  
"Use it to blow that wall down."  
"AFFIRMATIVE." A flash of light and a breeze surrounded Fuujin's slender form. A long, purple creature arose behind her. It stopped in front of the wall and began forming a tornado from the ground up. The metal structure trembled as the strong winds forced it out of the earth. The curved wall cracked and bent as it was pulled into the tornado's center. With its duty fulfilled, Pandemona ceased its movements and vanished into thin air.  
At last, Seifer saw him. Under his sandy-coloured bangs the other man gazed back from the ground, the turquoise of his eyes darkening at the approach of a storm. Seifer called back the last day he spoke to him. Three years ago...  
  
"Seifer! There's a slacker at the back. Won't keep walking, ya know?"  
He approached the last student following their organized line-up of SGS students. "Something wrong, student?"  
"No, I was jus' thinkin'–."  
"You're not supposed to think. You're supposed to walk. Keep up with the rest of the group or I'll make sure you don't get back to Galbadia Garden. Is that clear?"  
"Perfectly, but I thought I saw my pop–."  
"Didn't you hear what I said? I said–!"  
"Aye, not to think, I know, but I can't not think. Ye need yer brain to walk. Otherwise how would yer frontal lobe an' cerebellum operate neurons that'll–."  
"Don't be smart with me!" Seifer snapped. "I don't care if you're the smartest student that ever lived. I told you that we're leaving. So get going."  
"But I saw my pop! An'–An' I have to get to him! He's–! Aaaaagh!"  
Seifer hauled him by the collar of his shirt. "Blah, blah, blah. I told you to walk and you're gonna– Hey!" While he wasn't looking, the student slipped off his jacket and ran the opposite direction. "Shit! Raijin! Take care of the other students." Seifer called to the one herding the obedient students to the main entrance.  
"Where are ya going? We're gonna be late for the train back to Galbadia, ya know?"  
"I'll catch up. A student needs to be disciplined." He bolted after the student missing his red and black jacket. He chased the student through halls and stairwells. Seifer saw a blur of white and crimson enter Grandon's Docking Area. Within the automatic, closed door he hear the other boy shouting, "Pop! Wait! Stop!"  
"He's getting suspension when we get back..." Seifer muttered to himself. In a hurry, the other one-third of his posse nearly bumped into him. "Fuujin! What're you doing here?"  
"ASSIST."  
"Don't need your help. I can take care of this student myself."  
"WHERE?"  
"He's in there. Stupid guy's trying to tag after his father. Go back to Raijin. He's gonna need some help with the other Galbadians."  
She clicked her heels together and nodded. "AFFIRMATIVE."  
Seifer watched Fuujin, made sure she headed for the exit, before pivoting back to the automatic doors. He entered the enormous docking area of the ship.  
A flash of light blinded and knocked him to the floor. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious. He opened his eyes to see the Garden's metal walls ripping apart to pieces. At the bottom of the docking area, the screams of SeeDs and GFs were clipped short as they were obliterated instantly–   
  
Since hearing the rumours of The Grandon Bomber's return, Seifer felt a force driving him to an obsession: justice. He could not understand what force drove him. That is, until now. Reality slipped from him a moment as the atrocity pulled him back in time. He could almost feel ashes swarming his nostrils, and his heat on his hand as he reached for a burning man. The murderer of an entire population of students, SeeDs and civilians did not use an explosive device, yet he bore a much stronger, destructive power. It should have been obvious; he himself experienced first-hand its deception and terror. Hyperion's weight nudged him forward, cajoling him for blood, repayment for all the ones spilled years hence.   
Seifer hadn't known he was moving until he felt his weapon being tugged.  
"Stop! This isn't going to solve anything." It was Squall again.  
A corner of his lips twitched into an ironic smile. "...You SeeDs are starting to become a real nuisance." He placed his left hand on Squall's. "Let go of my gunblade."  
There was a flash under his hand.  
"Aaah!!" Squall screamed. Seifer's Fira scrorched his forehand, from his leather glove down to his burned skin.  
"Squall!" Selphie screeched. She ran to his side while Zell and Irvine directed fists and a shotgun at the Ex-Knight.  
"Fuujin, Raijin. Do whatever's necessary to stop them," he called to his posse without looking back. He heard and saw none of the battle that began between Squall's SeeD and his posse. All of his concentration and hatred were centred on one man, as if the world had come to only him and the motionless form, leaning against a metal wall.  
"You're not just a meager mechanic that flunked becoming a SeeD, are you?" he spoke evenly, his tone conversational, to Bradley. "I wouldn't be surprised if your father wasn't saying "monster" at a Guardian Force, but at something...someone else."  
His enemy did not speak or move –even his breathing seemed to have stopped. He merely stared, a storm brewing behind his eyes. Somewhere not too far away, a creature cried.  
"Say something!" Seifer urged. "Don't you feel anything for killing all of those people!?"  
The slightest twitch touched Bradley's eyes.  
_"Don' ye feel anythin' for 'em? This is cruel!"_  
"How does it feel to have their blood on your hands!?" Seifer persisted.  
Another slight movement.  
_"I saw what ye did. Don' deny it. I saw the blood on yer hands!!"_  
"Do you know how many people's blood is on your hands? Whose blood they are!?"  
_"I saw_ her _blood on yer hands. How could you –?"_  
"You're going to feel what they felt. I'm going to do what I should have done when I saw you lying in the city you destroyed!"  
Seifer was very close now, his booted feet brushed a prone, bandaged leg. One swift, plummet of his gunblade into the man's heart, and it would be over. Hyperion's sharp tip drew a red line on Bradley's chest. Seifer raised his weapon, and let the weight of his body press the gunblade downward.  
The weapon never entered Bradley's chest. While the tip of his gunblade hovered in mid-air, he heard the loud cry of an angry creature. He was distracted as a whip encircled itself around his wrists. At the other end of the whip she stood, dishevelled and furious. He had forgotten all about her, hadn't realised that her weapon slipped from his hand when he moved to burn Squall's.  
"I've told you, you can't stop me!" he shouted fiercely.  
Firaga lit from his hands, its heat and the strength of his arms broke the whip in half. Once again, he fired the elemental magic and missed his mark. She rolled on the ground, lunged for a palm-sized rock and aimed it at the side of his head.  
The last Seifer heard before blacking out was Quistis shouting his enemy's name.  
  
_To be continued..._


	12. Lucian

**Trust My Heart**  
by: Angel Wings Rinoa (Cathy-chan)  
  
**Chapter 12: Lucian**  
  
A lone Guardian Force stood standing in the centre of the smoke and fire. Near his clawed, ebony feet stood a boy. Their vehement eyes fixed on a fearful figure crawling madly away...

* * *

Bradley's eyes flew open. He had an odd dream, or rather odder than his usual ones. Unlike his other dreams, it was shorter but far more vivid. Even with his eyes wide open, he could still smell the fire and burning things. He could not see the frightened man on the floor, nor the GF other than its feet. However, they both felt familiar. They disconcerted him. The dream itself disconcerted him. Everything disconcerted him ever since his father entered his auto shop. He felt lost, or more accurately, as if he was misplacing pieces of himself. Gradually, after every dream, a piece of him slipped away.  
Nothing felt right.  
No. Someone felt right and well to him, she, with one glance of her honest eyes, could make him feel a peaceful calm amidst panic and pandemonium, even if it was for a mere minute.  
His senses absorbed new things as his body regained full awareness. The surface beneath his body was not hard or dusty, it was soft and bouncy. Above he stared straight to a ceiling that was not dark and dank, but bright and sterile-looking, despite its cracked condition. A mad, blonde man did not take his blood. However, a doctor had given him the blood of others. Turning his head, he saw that his forearm was link to a plastic bag filled with an opaque, red substance. And not too far away were his jeans, shredded but pristine and folded neatly.  
Somewhere near his feet, he heard Dr. Kadowaki's voice. There. How does that feel?  
....A little tight.  
No help for it, Mr. Leonhart. The antibiotic remedy has to be securely on your skin.  
I knew I should have went with you. Look at what you did to yourself!  
Bradley recognized the voice of the black-haired woman he met at the cafeteria, Rinoa.  
Seifer did it. Not me.  
But I bet Seifer wouldn't have singed your hand if you didn't come so close to him. Why're you always worrying the bits out of me!?  
  
Silence followed. Her concerned voice was directed to his bed. ...How's he doing?  
Hasn't awaken since the Communication Tower. He kept tossing and turning in his sleep though, but we couldn't wake him up no matter what we did. The good news is we were able to stop his bleeding.  
Indeed they had. Looking down, he saw a hospital gown covering starch-white bandages wrapping his body, instead of a menagerie of his and Quistis' shirts. He noticed a steady, mild sting coming from his leg and shoulder. Notwithstanding, he still wasn't fond of hospitals; they reminded him too much of what the interior of Grandon looked like. Plus he disagreed with its formal and objective atmosphere. Specifically, he had a strong dislike for the gowns. The germfree one covering him was too short for his tall form. The lacking attire would have been shoved a bit further down his thigh had it not been for his weakened arms. He wondered if the good doctor kept any of his dignity in tact by letting him keep his undergarments.  
Don't worry. It's still there, a smooth voice said near the window behind his head.  
He was surprised to hear her voice, surprised he hadn't noticed her. He grinned crookedly and decided to play coy for the heck of it. What's still there?  
I get uncomfortable when Dr. Kadowaki strips me naked underneath the gown too. Of course, she never fails to reply with And what about the bacteria lurking around your infected and bloodied delicates?' I insist to her that she lets her patients keep their under-things from now on. Or if not that, at least provide them with clean ones.  
Very perceptive of you, milady. If I had the strength to move, I would be kissing yer feet right now for honouring my dignity.  
Quistis let out a bubbly laugh. You are just too much sometimes. Honestly, if I had a student like you when I was an instructor, I would have needed a long student's report to write everyday just to keep my face straight during class.  
Oh no....I would have bored ye to death with my GF-this and GF-that rambling.  
I can scarcely believe you were ever boring, Bradley. Quistis' face came to his view. She sat down on a stool near his bed. How're you feeling?  
Much better, thanks. His cheery mien was dropped when he saw her face. She was distressed for his sake. It angered him how much stress he had inflicted on this wonderful woman. He felt like nothing more than a bother to other people of late. ...What's wrong?  
Quistis opened her mouth to speak. Just then a loud bellow from across the room shook the fractured walls.  
Why'm I still ere? I told you: I'm innocent!!  
He couldn't hold back the bitter anger from his voice. He's here?  
Squall told me he and the others arrested him soon after we fled to the Tower.  
Tis im ye want! He's the murderer, not me! Ow! Blewdy ell, woman!!  
Please refrain yourself from jumping around, Mr. Atkins, Dr. Kadowaki informed his father. I have not finished checking your sutures yet........yes, you'll be fine too. In about six months or so, you'll be able to walk normally. Though I'm sure it'll leave quite a deep scar. You'll have to wear a cast around your knee. She sighed wearily. ...I haven't dealt with so many injured patients since Galbadia Garden's attack a year ago. She turned to the tall man beside her. Is it true that he's the Grandon Bomber?  
Probably not, Irvine answered. From what me, Zell and the librarian got, it seems there's a reason why he wouldn't bomb the Garden.  
Aye, cause I'm innocent!  
No. It just means you had an occupation in Grandon. Something that would have been jeopardized if the Garden was put out of commission. Something like...smuggling GFs illegally to unlicenced and...unwholesome people around the world, perhaps?  
There was a deadly silence for a few seconds.  
Wow, Irvine! the doctor exclaimed. I must say I'm impressed.  
He chuckled softly. Nah. You should praise Zell's know-it-allness.  
Hehe, shucks, Irv! Zell said. You sure know how to make a guy feel special.  
Not being responsible for the devastation of Grandon Garden doesn't discount the fact that you're still a suspect for the one that happened here, Squall pointed out staidly to Joseph. Then, at finding Bradley awake, he said to the criminal's son, And you're going to be held here for questioning.  
That's well of you to say, Squall, but you're bothering my patients. All of you please kindly leave. Visiting hours are over. Dr. Kadowaki walked over to Bradley's bed. That means you too, Quistis.  
She's not bothering me, Bradley said. Quite the opposite, y'know.  
I'll stay and keep watch on his condition, Quistis told the doctor.  
Mr. Atkins –Bradley, you need to sleep and recover. Quistis, I'll keep watch over him. Don't worry, she told the two pointedly. The doctor helped her off the seat.  
I'll contact you with this if anything happens, Dr. Kadowaki added. She took out a black, rectangular device, a radio linked walky-talky. It's a good thing we still have these old things to help us out when the comms're down.  
Quistis complied reluctantly. Before joining Squall and the others to the exit, she kissed him quickly and whispered, Get better, okay?  
The doctor sat on the stool where Quistis sat. She waited for her friend to leave before saying, She fancies you a lot.  
Bradley smiled warmly.   
She nodded sedately. How do you feel about her?  
His smile widened. I spose I fancy her a lot too, doc.  
She nodded again and paused. ...Do you love her?  
His brow furrowed; the grin disappearing from his face. I...I think I do. he answered sincerely. _What's with the strange questions?_ he thought.  
Whether you do or don't, stop seeing her. Her voice was impersonal and cold.  
  
Do her and yourself a favour: don't come near her again. Before Dr. Kadowaki stood up to tend the other patients, she said quietly, You're not what she needs.  
The doctor closed the curtains hanging around his bed. A few minutes later the lights were dimmed. The sunlight coming through the window's blinds illuminated his bewildered eyes.  
_Don't come near her again._ In his head, the words echoed as he tried to go back to sleep.

* * *

I told you to get out, Squall spoke coldly. Outside the doors of the infirmary, Seifer and his posse waited, angry and impatient.  
Seifer tapped his gunblade on his shoulder. You should have let me kill him.  
That's not for you or me to determine. Squall walked pass the other man without looking at him. Unlike you, we don't think we're judge, jury and executioner unto ourselves. You're leaving Balamb Garden and will never return. If I still see your face when I get back, I'm going to put you in a confined room with those two and send you to Desert Prison with them.  
Heh. For what?  
  
Oh, I'm sorry, Seifer bowed mockingly. I didn't know that mere civilians are not allowed to bask in the glory of Balamb Garden's interior.  
And you interfered with a SeeD mission. That can hold you liable of being affiliated with our intended target. Squall grinned drily. Despite the fact that you killed almost all of them.  
Seifer slashed the air in front of him with his weapon while Irvine and Zell stood guard behind Squall. He disregarded them as he came face-to-face with their commander.  
No. _You_ interfered with me. And for that I can hold you liable of pissing me off. Wait, you already have pissed me off. I've told you before that no one gets in my way unless they're hoping for a slow, painful death.  
Your threats have no bite here, Seifer, Irvine said. He used his shotgun to direct Seifer's gaze to the five people, including himself, that despised the Ex-Knight, all of them armed and throwing him glares. You're outnumbered.  
Trying to hide cowardly in your precious group again, Squall? Seifer laughed. He returned to leaning on the columns of the hall. You can do all you want, but I'm not leaving until I have killed Bradley.  
Why're you after him? You've already killed the bombers, and we have their leader. What more do you want? Squall paused, frowning.  
Like I'd tell you. I have my own reasons.  
It's for Grandon, isn't it? There's more to it than just someone using explosives.  
Seifer didn't look at the other man. He snorted a short laugh. Figured it out, eh, Squall?  
Some of it. I'm starting to think that the legend of Grandon Massacre' is wrong.  
What do you mean, Squall? Rinoa asked.  
It's not because I believed Mr. At –Joseph Atkins when he said he was innocent regarding Grandon. It's because of what Irvine showed me. Also, it seemed strange that a con artist that only smuggled Guardian Forces would suddenly commit mass murder. His criminal records show that he hasn't committed any major crimes that included homicide or explosives. Only recently perhaps, if he had something to with the attacked on us.  
Ah, don't we have a very deductive Ol' Commander here, Seifer said sarcastically.  
Irvine ignored Seifer's rude remark. He scowled thoughtfully and asked Squall, So like....doesn't that mean he could be innocent for not destroying our Garden too?  
Not necessarily. Keep in mind, he had knowledge of how a Garden works. Maybe he's not a murderer, but there's no doubt that his accomplices –the ones Seifer has killed– are. They're definitely equipped with the knowledge and morality –rather the lack thereof– to do the dirty work. I got Balamb SeeDs to do an indetification on the bodies; all of them were well known for destroying important buildings and assassinating political and authoritive figures. When they searched their bodies, they found the activation system for an explosive device. We haven't found where the bomb is, unfortunately. The Garden's on full alert. There could very well be a third one hidden inside our Garden. I still don't understand how something as deadly as that could have gotten pass our security.  
But what does that have to do Bradley? Rinoa asked.  
He's a key factor. And a strange one at that: the one guy who wasn't mentioned in the Grandon Massacre. The evidence and accounts from Grandon all lead to him. He walked to Quistis who stood listening to his explanations near the infirmary's doors.  
He looked gravely into her eyes, saying, Lowering your SeeD rank is not enough to make you fully understand how much you've endangered yourself by being with him. He's dangerous. He paused. Then said, Squall waved vaguely to Seifer's direction. wouldn't be so obsessed about killing Bradley without a reason. His voice became softer, so that only Quistis could hear. I would gladly just call him a madman too. But I've known him for too long to do that.  
_You_ are the madman, Squall! Quistis said furiously. You've gone insane with these accusations and ridiculous ideas about the wrong person.  
Quistis, listen to me! He placed a hand on her shoulder. The man is heartless. He has put your life in danger, and he's going to do it again without hesitation. He's a damn criminal, and he's only using you!  
No! You're wrong! she shouted angrily. She brushed his hand off. I don't care what you say about him. In fact, I don't care about anything you say anymore. Tears began to appear on her eyes. .....I thought you, despite your apathy, would show a little bit of support for me. I thought that, underneath that coldness of yours, there must be some heart that could make you happy for me, or at least respect my decisions. She backed away from him. ....But I was wrong. She shook her head at him, laughing mirthlessly. You're simple to figure out after all, Squall.  
Squall, surprised at Quistis' reaction, was unable to speak. She walked away from him and the shocked faces of her friends, and the neutral ones of Seifer and his posse.  
Squall? Hello? He was startled to find Selphie standing not too far away. She was looking behind her. Hey....I just saw Quistis. Is everything okay?  
His eyes were nowhere in particular to his side when he answered, ......Just fine. He straightened his posture and then said, more clearly. Were you able to contact Trabia?  
Uh-hum, wasn't easy though! I didn't know Trabia was soooo far away til we stopped having long-range communication systems. But I followed Xu's advice and went to Dollet, and asked them whether I could use the network in the Communication Tower. Wow, you guys should see the place now! No more Elvoret or anything else that's spookie and–!  
he cutted in, his voice a bit impatient. Did you talk to the boy's guardian?  
She grinned shippishly at her leader. Sorry, Squall. Yah....Sort of. I talked to the guy running Trabia Garden at the moment. Turns out the kid's not in Trabia anymore.  
Where then?  
The shorter girl grinned gaily. When she saw that the commander was in no mood for guessing games (if indeed he was ever in a mood to play any game), she recoiled a little. However, a smile was still immodestly on her face as she said. The kid's right here! In this Garden! Aren't we soooo lucky!?!  
...Since when?  
Uhm.......he said –oh yah! Recently. Soon after we stopped Sorceress Ultimecia. Turns out the kid's guardian, his cousin, is somewher else, but she keeps tabs with the kid. The guy leading Trabia right now said the cousin thought it'd be good for the kid to transfer to a Garden that did some travelling. Seems Trabia's location was too quiet and isolated for the poor little guy. Oh, I have him right here. She called out to someone from the other side of the hall. Lucian, come out and meet the other nice SeeDs!  
The boy Selphie referred to as Lucian was a small, skinny one. As Irvine had mentioned, he was barely pass a half dozen years; he was small for his age too. His eyelids never seem to touch his big, brown irises as it noted each face one by one.  
He knelt down in front of the boy. No one's going to harm you. We just want to ask you a few questions–.  
–about what happened to Grandon, Lucian finished for him.  
He nodded. That's right.  
Again, the boy looked at each person in the hallway. ...Do I hafta say something to... He swallowed hard, his voice tight with fear,   
No, you can talk to only one of us, if you wish. If you want, Selphie could–.  
I'd rather talk to you......i-i-if that's okay?  
_Me?_ .....That's fine.  
Lucian didn't offer another word. His eyes were darting to every face again. Each time he looked at the faces, his glance always came to Seifer's last.  
...We can talk somewhere private if you want, Squall offered.  
The child nodded quickly; a small twich resembling a smile flickered from his lips.   
We'll talk near the elevators and–.  
He wasted no time rushing away from the group of people as soon as he heard the words near the elevators.  
Hm, jumpy little thing, ain't he? Irvine commented.  
Squall turned to his five companions, explicitly excluding Seifer, Fuujin and Raijin. We'll rejoin in the temporary meeting room in 600 hours. Until then, I suggest you all get a good night's rest. We got a lot to do tomorrow.  
Aye-aye, Commander! they all said simultaneously.  
...I know you're saying that intentionally, their commander said with a hint of a sour tone.  
Before Selphie left, she warned Squall. He's just a small boy. Go easy on him, okay? Don't go asking him too many questions at once.  
_What does she think I'm gonna do? Interrogate him!?_   
  
The time chimed to nine o'clock as Squall and Lucian sat on the stairs leading to the elevators. They heard and saw not a single person; Balamb students were acutely aware of the consequences of wandering about after curfew. While Squall preoccupied himself at looking at the floor, Lucian sat a few feet from him, offering no words or acknowledgement.  
Finally, the child broke the silence with, Y-You're not like them....T-That's why I picked to talk to you ab-about....you know. Furtively his ever-round eyes sought Squall's questioning gaze. You don't have those pity-looks like ev'ryone else.  
The older teenage boy shrugged. ...Everyone has their own problems. It's just not my responsibility to worry about other people's business except mine.  
the boy squinched his face thoughtfully. are you lone then?  
...I used to be, he answered honestly. Squall didn't think it strange that he was being truthful to the boy. Lucian's callow frankness justified such a response. He thought of what his answer could have been if it was a year ago, when he had no friends, no Rinoa.  
Y-Y'know it's good to be not alone, y'know, the little child said forcefully. It was the first time Squall had seen the boy active and lively. His hands were flailing to every direction as he tried to articulate himself. It's bad when you got no one to talk to...t-to hold your hand and........ Lucian sniffled; he wiped a tear streaming down his face with his over-sized sweater. ....It's bad when.....It's sad, being lone.....really sad.... His voice trailed off; he reverted back to looking at his sneakers, to the untied laces that swayed on the floor as he jangled his feet.  
Squall moved his eyse to his own feet, wondering how to approach the fragile situation. Quistis would know how to handle children; she had experienced teaching a few during her short period as an instructor. A corner of his mouth twitched wryly; how ironic it was that the boy wanted to confide in him when he had no sensitivity to be a friend for Quistis. He ran a hand through his hair; he needed to apologize or.....something –anything for hurting her feelings. He had simply wanted to tell her the truth, to protect her from a broken heart, and, instead of gratitude, he received guilt. He was starting to think that it was not what he said but how he said it. He blew air through his nose. Shouting out that the man was using her and acting like an autocrat was not a good way to assure a troubled and stressed friend.  
His attention moved back to the child. He was reminded of the boy that stood in the rain outside Edea's Orphanage, crying out the name of his dear sister, hoping to see a glimpse of his loved one running towards him with open arms. In their own lives, Squall and Lucian learned from loneliness and broken promises. Squall had learned that the truth was heartless, but if one had no heart in return then nothing would be broken a second time. Lucian chose to trust him because, in some aspects, they were alike, they knew the truth as it was. Squall gave everyone around him no flowery words nor pitying looks. Just the truth.  
Squall needed exactly that, open and unprohibited. He straightened his spine, and looked at the boy directly. He waited for Lucian to look back before saying, ...You were lonely too, weren't you? Did you lose someone in Grandon?  
The boy's hands clasped tightly together. He was shaking, holding back the tears he needed to shed for his family. He couldn't speak for a while.  
When Squall wanted to end it there, thinking the memories painful for him, Lucian uttered shakily, ...T-Two...I lost t-two... He wiped the tears frenziedly running from his eyes. His entire, little frame shook with the emotions he was fighting back. T-They were all I had, y'know....m-my family....li'l one, but....t-they were mine...then he took them away!  
Squall was astonished to feel his heart tighten; he was amazed at the emotions he struggled with in himself. He didn't know what to do or say to soothe the poor child.  
Without removing his face from his sleeves, Lucian threw himself against Squall's arm. He clung on the black, leather sleeve, burrying his face in them, and asked for nothing more.  
To say the least, Squall was surprised; more so than before. But he had no difficulty putting his hand gently on the boy's head. It was empathy, as if, by the mere act of his hand stroking Lucian's ruffled black locks, he was healing wounds, his and the child's.  
_Don't you ever want someone to listen?_  
Quistis' words. He didn't understand the importance of it. What could it possibly accomplish, he thought, when the pain had already been inflicted?  
Soothing the crying child on his arm, he finally understood. And he realised maybe he had a lot to say sorry to Qusitis for.  
  
_To be continued.._  
  
**Author's Note:** Lucian is based on an original character of mine from my fantasy story called "Lucian's Wish."


End file.
